The Lost Key
by Alice V
Summary: A key's been stolen, a hidden eye is wanted by all and some bloodthirsty monsters invade a certain castle... The laws are broken everywhere, and the wizards end up seeing themselves in the middle of a chaos they never suspected that could exist.
1. Intro

**Intro**

It was late at night.

The stars were hidden behind the dark clouds, and so was the moon. The shadows hid the stranger in the empty corridors, and he certainly was pleased that everything was so perfectly arranged for him.

He wasn't in a hurry, the stranger. Walked calmly, observing the surroundings, and wondering what should be his next step. Sometimes, he could listen footsteps in the distance, echoing in the huge castle. Ghosts could be also seen or heard from time to time, but that was not something to fear – at least, not to him.

The stranger sighed, feeling a little tired. He should be back to the Camp soon, otherwise he could see himself into trouble – not that he would usually care, but this time what he had to do was too important for him to let things go out of control. And yet, he just didn't want to come back. Even if he now had his own cabin, he still felt he didn't belong to that place – but that was the expected, considering who his father was.

He shook his head, focusing on what should be done. Then, muttered something to himself that sounded somehow like a curse, and sighed again. And, in the next instant, the stranger was swallowed by the shadows, vanishing into the darkness.


	2. A Stranger in the Nest

**Chapter One**

"It was another bad day for Harry. He was one of the worst in Transfiguration, not having practiced Vanishing spells at all. He had to give up his lunch hour to complete the picture of Bowtruckle and, meanwhile, Professors McGonagall, Grubbly-Plank and Sinistra gave them yet more homework, which he had no prospect of finishing that evening because of his second detention with Umbridge."

As if it wasn't bad enough, during the dinner Angelina Johnson managed to tracking him down - and her reaction to the bad news wasn't pleasant at all. And so, he could not feel any other way but awful.

Dinner was at its end, and everyone was about to gather and leave the tables when something unusual happened – Dumbledore stood up.

"Well, now that you've had enough of this delightful meal, I'd like to give you a short announcement." He said. Harry frowned, and so did everyone else, as he could see – even the professors, which was certainly really awkward. "This year we'll be having here with us a visitor from the United States." A boy appeared at Dumbledore's side, visibly uncomfortable. He seemed more or less Harry's age, though his dark brown eyes were much more serious – with a depth and sobriety he had never seen in such a young person. He wore black only, and his hair was the same color. His skin was pale, as if he didn't sunbathe very often. "We are very pleased to have here with us Nico diAngelo, and we hope he gets all hospitality he deserves."

Then, the school was dismissed, and the silence was replaced by some clattering and banging, though what could mostly be heard were the whispers of the students. Harry could understand why; that announcement of the Headmaster was very odd. He looked around, trying to find Nearly Headless Nick, so that he could ask him if that had ever happened before – but Nick wasn't anywhere to be seen. And it wasn't just him. Apparently, every ghost from the hall had gone away. He glared at Dumbledore again. He was talking to the boy, and his expression was very serious. Now _that_ was weird.

"Harry, we should be going…" Hermione poked him, and started dragging him out of the Hall.

"But… don't you think that was _too_ weird?"

"Yeah, definitely!" said Ron "I mean, that boy looks like a zombie!"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded him. Then she turned to Harry. "Well, it's not that weird, if you stop to think about it. I mean, last year we had students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang here…"

"I know, but that was for the Triwizard Tournament!" Harry shook his head. "Besides, did you see him talking to Dumbledore? It was as if they were… arranging things or…"

"Oh, stop being so paranoid, Harry!" Now it was him who got scolded. "They probably just wanted to settle things for his stay!"

"But Dumbledore didn't seem very happy while talking to him." Ron observed, and Harry agreed.

"Yeah, it looked like something about that… what's his name?..."

"Nico diAngelo."

"…that's right, that diAngelo boy was bothering him."

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that arguing would be useless.

The second detention was just as bad as the previous one – and so was the third and the fourth. The pile of homeworks only grew bigger, and everyone still looked at him as if he was mad. The only good thing that happened the whole week was the fact Ron had become the Keeper, but that was certainly not enough for making Harry's mood get any better.

The boy who had been introduced by Dumbledore a few days before was a mystery – he had not shown himself yet. Nobody seemed to have seen him, and, obviously, nobody had ever talked to him. Hermione was still trying to defend him, but ever she couldn't hide anymore that everything about was just too odd.

The weekend was unfortunately at its end, and none of the three seemed tohave rested one bit. Monday had come, and with it the news of Umbridge's nomination of the first Hogwarts Inquisitor.

When they got to the History of Magic lesson, expecting Umbridge to be there, they had a surprise – instead of her, they found Nico diAngelo there, sitting in a dark corner of the room. Harry tried very hard not to stare, but that was useless. He couldn't help but wonder what that guy was doing there. And neither could the rest of the class, for everyone seemed uneasy or just curious with his presence.

As soon as the class was over, he left the room, and if anyone wanted to talk to him, it would be impossible.

Next, they had Potions. Again, the boy was there before everyone, and again he left as fast as he could.

They expected to see him during the lunch, too, but he didn't show up. Harry wondered where he would eat, but he soon forgot about it when they started talking about the OWL's.

In a sudden, Fred changed the subject of the conversation.

"Did you have any inspected lesson yet?" he asked.

"No. But we had two with that new guy… uh… what's his name again?" said Ron.

"Really? The zombie one?" George stared at them, visibly curious.

"And what about him?"

"Stop calling him that!" Hermione seemed angered. "He doesn't look like a zombie at all…"

"Well, you've never seen one to know, have you?" Fred grinned.

"Besides, it's not our fault if he doesn't like to sunbathe, is it?" George added, also smiling.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue about that, but Harry managed to interrupt her.

"Well, we can't say anything about him… Only that he isn't very communicative, ya' know."

"Yeah, not sociable at all." Ron agreed, firmly.

"Well, good luck with the zombie boy, then!" the twins left, leaving the annoyed Hermione with no time to answer to that.

Next, they had Divination, and both Nico diAngelo and Umbridge were already there when Harry and Ron arrived. Trelawney seemed quite nervous while handing out the books, and Harry couldn't blame her: that old toad woman gave him chills, especially after the first sessions of his detention.

"Well, let's continue today the study of prophetic dreams." She tried to make her usual dreamy and mystical voice, but failed. "Please divide in pairs and interpret the night-visions you had yesterday."

Harry glanced at Nico, who had been forced to be Neville's pair. Both of them seemed very uncomfortable about that, but none tried to complain, which was already a good thing.

"Harry! It's your turn to think of a dream!"

"Uh?"

"Last time I made up one, remember?" said Ron.

"Ah." But Harry wasn't paying attention. He was still looking at the other pair, observing how Neville got perturbed as diAngelo started telling him his dream.

"Then?"

"Oh, well… I dunno. Lets say my dream was… Ah… I was drowning into Snape's cauldron."

"Ugh, that's awful. I'm sure Trelawney would love this."

"Aham."

Neville was trying to seem calm, but looking at Nico's grave expression was just too much for him. As he skimmed the book and said the meanings of each part of the "night-vision", his eyes seemed more frightened. Nico, on the other hand, looked as if it was quite funny, since his lips curved to form a slight grin.

When the class was over, Neville still had that troubled expression on his face, and Harry was heading towards him to ask him why, when Ron interrupted him.

"Well, that was tough, huh?"

"That what?" Harry frowned, still trying to reach Nico.

"What do you mean by 'that what'?" Ron looked confused. "You certainly saw Umbridge's nice interview with Trelawney?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" He had finally got Harry's attention. "What happened?"

Ron stared at him incredulously.

"You really haven't heard a thing? My God!"

He told him then about the questions the old toad woman made to the Divination's professor, and Harry even felt sorry for her. Then, he was about to tell Ron about the scene he witnessed when they got to Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and Ron went running to tell Hermione what just happened.

Harry looked around him, and soon found out Nico diAngelo was already there. How he got everywhere so fast, Harry didn't have any clue, but the fact was that he was in a dark corner again, as he seemed to enjoy. The Potter was just about turning to his friends when the American boy looked at him. Their eyes met for a few seconds, only, but it was enough to make him nervous.

Harry turned to Umbridge, then, as she spoke of how inappropriate was the teaching of defensive spells, and how they would never need to use them in real life.

"… because you will never need it as long as you're here, and there's nothing to be afraid of on the outside, unlike some people might say."

She interrupted herself, and looked to the darker corner of the room. Everybody followed her eyes, and what they saw was unexpected: Nico diAngelo had raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr…?"

"DiAngelo." He said.

"Well, Mr. diAngelo, what do you have to say to us?"

"Well, professor Umbridge, I must say I disagree about your point of view – you never know when your life will be in danger, will you?"

The silence took place in the room. Umbridge squinted, visibly exasperated.

"Excuse me?"

"So, learning how to defend is crucial, ain't that? I mean, unless you don't care about dying at any time."

"What are you talking about? You are all just kids, there's no way anyone would want to harm you…" she spit the words.

"Professor, only because we don't know anyone who would harm us, that doesn't mean that there's no one who would want to do so."

She stared at him for a long time before she pronounced again, and when she did, it was with that fake sweet tone of hers.

"I see you have misunderstood things in here, Mr. diAngelo. Of course you are going to learn how to defend yourselves here – in the theory. There's nothing to worry about." She smiled.

Surprisingly, he gave her a smile back – a very cold one, by the way.

"Of course, Professor Umbridge. I just am afraid that might not be enough for the hard times that are to come."

"Oh, dear, but you don't have to worry about that. There's no hard times coming." The sweetness reached a dangerous tone, almost like a threat. Nico shrugged, giving up.

Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron, and he knew they thought the same as he – what was that "hard times" talk about? Would he be talking about Voldemort? And why did he act as if he knew something they didn't? What was he hiding?

The rest of the lesson was just as expected: extremely boring. Harry gave his best not to open his mouth every time Umbridge said something outrageous - which was all the time. He wished very hard it would end up soon, so that he could talk more freely with his friends.

He glared at Nico again, wondering what why was he at Hogwarts, and suddenly noticed something hanging out of his jacket. He didn't recognize that shape, though. It was a strange black metal cylinder, all engraved with images he could not understand at distance. Somehow, that thing made him shudder. Harry shook his head, trying to figure out what that might be. That was when the classes were dismissed, and he found the opportunity to finally talk to Hermione and Ron about that weird boy with petroleum hair and pale olive skin who was certainly carrying a secret.

:.

_the first paragraph was taken from Harry Potter 5 so that the story could fit into the books world... but the rest is all by me! :)_

_oh, yes, and please, review!_


	3. A Very Weird Conversation

**Chapter 2**

Harry's life had been just like a normal adolescent's: he'd been trying to figure out what was the best way to start a conversation with the girl he liked without sounding stupid, at the same time he had to deal with the huge pile of homework and certain professors who definitely didn't like him; if that wasn't enough, he had to get used to having his forehead aching every time a psychotic murderer (who wanted desperately to kill him) felt any sort of strong emotions, he barely could talk to his godfather (his only family) because he was a convicted criminal (even though he was innocent), and half of the school thought he was totally mad.

Really, his life couldn't be more normal.

These days, the skies seemed to feel sorry for him – its' blue tones hadn't appeared for quite a time now, hidden by grayish and gloomy clouds. But as he walked through the many corridors of the castle, heading to the Gryffindor's common room, he couldn't see those clouds that made him company – it was night already and the darkness covered them the same way they did to the sky.

Harry felt exhausted and in pain. His hand was bleeding from the detention with the old toad, and when he threw himself into his House's room he almost didn't manage to hide the wound.

"Hey, Harry!" the Weasley twins reached him, looking excited.

"Guess what? We've got a message for you!"

"Oh, yeah?" he muttered, not really interested.

Fred and George looked at each other and grinned.

"Yep. From the zombie boy."

That caught his attention. From Nico diAngelo? The guy who hadn't said a single word to any student (except Neville, but that was because of the Divination lesson) since he arrived? Well, that was odd.

"Who the hell is that zombie boy?" Ginny chimed in, looking curious.

"Well, ain't that obvious?"

"Mm… No?"

"Just don't listen to them, Ginny…" Hermione rolled her eyes, visibly annoyed.

"That new American guy, duh!"

"I mean, who else could it be?" they looked at her as if she was some kind of mental retarded for a while, but that fortunately didn't last very long.

"But… I don't think he looks like a zombie…" Ginny looked puzzled. She stared at them for a while, trying to figure out what they meant.

"Of course he does!" they answered in unison.

"Yeah, that's right!" Ron agreed with them, which seemed to make Hermione only more angered.

"But why?" she insisted.

"…"

"Because…"

Silence was held in the room, and Harry could see Hermione grinning triumphantly, though her eyes were still fixed on the book.

"… he smells like death." Ron muttered, and everyone stared at him. It wasn't like the guy worked as a mortician or a grave-digger… so what the hell was he talking about?

Ginny shook her head, trying to decide if she should be worried about her brother's mental health or if she should just laugh. Then, before anyone could suggest anything else as crazy as his best friend's suggestion, Harry finally asked:

"So, uh, what did he want to tell me…?"

"Ah, yes! That's right, the message..." Fred's smile reappeared, and so did George's.

"He just said he wanted to talk to you."

"Maybe to confess his love for you…"

"…or saying his mother is your big fan…"

"…or that she hates you with all of her heart…"

"…or…"

"You both stop it!" Hermione said harshly as Ron started laughing. The twins stopped and went away, but their faces still held a smile. She shook her head, and sighed. Then she turned her attention to Harry, and seeing his contemplative gaze she asked:

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"'Course I am." He managed to smile, though his thoughts were miles away. She frowned, but he didn't notice. For the rest of the night he didn't say much more, worried about who that Nico was, what he meant when he said something about hard times coming and if that had anything to do with Voldemort's rise.

:.

Nico diAngelo didn't appear for the breakfast next morning – as usual. Yet, he didn't show up in the first lessons, which was odd – after he started watching them, he never missed a single one. The more time passed, the more Harry's curiosity grew, along with his frustration. And when he had already convinced himself the American boy wouldn't show up that day, the strangest thing happened: he sat by Harry's side at lunch time.

At first, none of them spoke. People at Gryffindor's table had gone silent, staring at him with disbelief in their eyes. But after a while, of course, their interest started to fade. When Harry was about to ask what Nico wanted with him, the boy broke the silence.

"So you're Potter, right?"

Harry nodded. He didn't know why, but that guy made him feel too uncomfortable to speak.

"Well" he cleared his throat, and then continued. "There are two things I wanna ask you…" He made another pause, and his eyes looked careful, as if he was trying to measure his words before saying them. He sighed, and with a deadly serious expression on his face he spoke "Are you gay?"

Harry gasped, widening his eyes. He looked around and, fortunately for him, very few people had seemed to have listened. He wondered if Fred and George were right, and he _would_ actually get a love declaration.

"Uh, excuse me?" he managed to say, hoping he hadn't heard him well, or that it would've been just a bad joke.

"You understood me." Nico said impatiently "Are you homosexual? Or Bisexual?"

"No!" Harry glanced at Ravenclaw's table, wishing Cho would never know of this odd conversation. His friends – the ones who were watching – kept observing them with their jaws dropped and a shadow of a smile on their faces.

"Are you sure?" Nico insisted, analyzing Harry with his dark piercing eyes.

"'Course I am!" the answer was said a little too loud, but no one seemed to care. Nico sighed again, and then replied.

"Well then could you _please_ stop staring at me all the time? I know you guys think I'm weird and all, but you look _too much_ at me!" he complained, looking really bothered.

Harry blinked, feeling enormously dazed - and relieved. He looked at the Weasley twins and almost laughed of their disappointed looks.

"Yeah, uh, I'm sorry."

"And the other thing…" Nico ignored his apologies, and kept talking "Are you the 'boy who lived' - or anything like that?"

Suddenly the laughter vanished from that part of the table – even Fred and George got kind of serious.

"Yes, I am." Harry's tone was defiant.

"Hm." That was his only answer. Everybody who'd been listening to the conversation kept staring at him, expecting him to keep talking.

But Nico didn't speak. Instead, he just raised and left the table, leaving an astonished and confused Harry behind.

:.

"Now even you must admit that wasn't normal _at all_, Mione."

Hermione had to agree. She could see that what most intrigued everyone around them was Nico's first question – about Harry's sexuality. Yet, the more she thought of what had happened, the more she realized his last question was the most disturbing – everyone at the wizarding world should know Harry was The-Boy-Who-Lived. Even she, who was Muggle-born, recognized him at first. And that boy had to take a week?

Besides, he actually acted as that was nothing. Hermione knew that was the way Harry wanted to be treated like about that, but still that was odd. She wondered if at US You-Know-Who hadn't been any famous, but she knew he was – she'd read about it.

She glanced at Harry, who looked really pissed off about the jokes his friends were making about what'd happened at lunch time. Fred and George left them, going to their own lessons, and so did Ginny a few minutes later.

They were alone, and so finally she could talk to him with no disturbances around. At least that was her intention before Harry suddenly ceased to move. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, wondering what was the reason of that. Then they saw _her_.

A young girl had stopped in front of Harry, staring at his direction with the mouth wide open and scared eyes. She was probably first or second year, considering her height; her eyes were of a dark and deep blue, and her curly hair was caramel brown.

"Y-you…" she stuttered, shivering. "You are…"

"Yeah, I am Harry Potter, why?" his voice sounded angry. Did she also believe he was crazy?

"Oh..? No, not you…" she blinked, as if she'd only seen him then.

Harry turned back, flushing. So she wasn't thinking any bad things about him, after all. Then he noticed that just behind him was Nico diAngelo – and he was staring the girl back with such intensity that Harry felt uncomfortable for her.

"What about me?" he finally asked, looking curious.

"I…" the poor girl said, looking anxiously around, as if she was trying to find an escape route. "…you… ah… it's really nothing…"

Nico frowned, but didn't insist. The three Gryffindor friends cast meaningful glances at each other as the girl left in a sudden hurry, as if she was running away from Death itself.

:.

_First of all, I wanted to thank for the reviews (and ask for more, naturally…). That is actually the only thing that makes me keep writing this story. Really, I'm so busy lately that I almost cannot grant myself this one little luxury – to spend my time writing just for fun._

_I hope you all liked this chapter and forgive me for not updating as much as I wanted to…_


	4. Wrong Thoughts

**Chapter 3**

"Hi."

The girl with caramel hair and deep blue eyes turned and stared at them.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Harry Potter, and these are Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"…"

The silence felt uncomfortable, and as she didn't seem to want to introduce herself, Harry continued:

"Listen, we… well, we were a little curious about your… uh… how can I say that…"

"…your relation with Nico di Angelo." Hermione intervened. Harry wondered if she hadn't been too frank – especially after the girl looked at them as if she wanted to run away.

"It's… nothing."

"Hey, you can trust us!" Ron tried a smile, and it seemed to work.

"But why would you care…?"

"Well, that guy is just too weird! And his coming here is very suspicious…"

The little girl stood thoughtful for a while. Then she sighed and shook her head.

"Tsk. You wouldn't believe me anyway…"

"Yes, we would!" Harry said. "Besides, it's not good to keep something that bothers you inside – you should tell somebody."

Hermione frowned. She didn't think that argument would make things better, but since _Ron's_ argument worked, she realized she really shouldn't doubt anything. And she was right, because suddenly they saw themselves in a corner of an empty room, listening to a very odd declaration.

"So… you had a _dream_ about him?" Ron said in disbelief as she started to speak. He was about to say how stupid that was when Hermione gave him a cold glance – and he realized he should just shut up.

"Yes. But… it was before he came to Hogwarts."

"So you knew him before…" it was Harry who said that, not really impressed.

"No."

"No?"

"I had this… awful nightmare with him… During the summer vacation…" she gulped, shivering from the memory. "But I soon forgot about it – I thought it was just a stupid and meaningless nightmare, you know… But then he came, and I thought I had seen him somewhere. You see, it'd been some time since that… dream, and I didn't recognize him at once…"

"W-wait. So you know Nico di Angelo from a _dream_?" Hermione naturally didn't seem to believe. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"And the fact we are in a magic school trying to make spells with stupid wooden sticks makes sense to you?" the little girl shook her head, looking angry. "I knew you wouldn't believe me…" she walked away, heading for the exit of the room. Halfway, though, Harry reached her and held her arm.

"Hey, wait."

"Leave me!" she didn't scream, but she seemed to be about to do so.

"Uh, I'm sorry for that… It's just… well, a little hard to believe…"

"I know." Her voice sounded harsh, but Harry didn't care.

"But I believe you."

The girl narrowed her eyes, looking wary.

"Please, just give them both a break." Harry continued. He gave her a smile, and then, trying to gain a little bit more of her trust, he asked, gently: "May I ask your name?"

"It's Amanda." Her eyes softened a little – but not too much. Harry smiled.

"Well, nice to meet you…"

"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?" Amanda said, still looking suspicious.

"Yeah, uh… I think you're right."

"Your name is Harry, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

"If you want to know more of what I'd been telling you about, meet me in this place at midnight." She wrote something, then gave him a folded paper, and added: "Come _alone_."

Amanda turned and left before he could understand she'd totally taken control of the situation.

"Well, see you midnight." Harry mumbled to no one in particular, and headed to the Common Room with his best friends.

:.

When Harry finally entered the Common Room and took off his Invisibility Coat, Ron and Hermione started to feel apprehensive about him. His eyes held a thick shadow of preoccupation, and his mind seemed to be far away.

"So how was the talk, Harry?" Ron smiled hoping he would just say she'd only said nonsense stuff, as before – which was the obvious thing to do.

"You… didn't _really_ believe her, did you, Harry?" Hermione asked, with a skeptical expression on her face.

"Tomorrow we talk about that…" he mumbled. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm just fine." He turned to the stairs. His friends were still standing in the middle of the room, wondering what might have happened. When he realized he'd actually been acting weird and they were just worried about him, he sighed, and said: "It's just… I really need some time to think." Both of them raised their respective eyebrows. "When I was talking to her… Well, maybe that was just nonsense… a stupid idea… but…" he shook his head. "I really need some rest. This guy, Nico di Angelo… Maybe he is connected with some Death Eaters…"

"What?"

"Yes! I mean, that would make sense…"

Harry just nodded and left the room, not even listening to the complaints of Hermione and the discussion that followed. Maybe Amanda didn't know, but she could have in her hands some information that could get her killed – or worse. And maybe… Maybe the di Angelo was sent to spy Hogwarts, to spy him.

Harry shuddered, and suddenly he felt he was no longer safe in the castle he always considered as a home.

:.

Sitting on the lawn, watching the grayish clouds move as if preparing the skies for a storm that would never come, Harry finally felt free from his worries for a while. He knew he had too much to do, and he was sure he should be worried about Nico di Angelo and his purposes, but after he had told his friends about his suspicions the weight on his chest seemed to partially go away.

He looked at Ron and Hermione, who had been with a thoughtful expression since he had spoken of the midnight talk with Amanda. They looked as if they couldn't decide whether to agree with Harry's ideas or not, and Harry couldn't blame them for that. Who could possibly have the awful taste to do _that_…?

"But really, Harry, don't you think having this… uh… interpretation of things from that girl's _dreams_…" Hermione finally spoke.

"But Mione, that would make all the sense… if he's spying on Harry, you know… You should really tell Dumbledore about that!" he turned to Harry as he spoke the last sentence.

"I don't know why, but I have the feeling she wasn't lying to me… But still, it doesn't matter if what she said is the truth or not." Harry argued. "Do you remember when I found Tom Riddle's diary? Well, Nico looks just like him."

"Though that doesn't mean they are related." She didn't seem convinced – or was afraid to admit he could be right. "And even if they were, it wouldn't mean he would be…"

"…Voldemort's son?" Ron gasped when the name was said, but Harry just ignored him. "Well, even so, it wouldn't make much difference, would it?" he opened his mouth to add something, but was interrupted by a sudden giggle – that didn't belong to any of them.

"Tom Riddle's son?" the new unexpected voice emerged together with its owner from behind them. "_Me_?"

The three froze as Nico di Angelo showed up, with a smile on his face.

"W-what were you...why were you spying on us?" Ron was the first to talk, and his voice rose in an angry (though a bit scared) tone.

"It's none of your business." Ron was about to shout him some insults when he added. "But don't you worry. I'm not that _scum's_ relative." He said the last sentence in a defiant tone, and his eyes held such a disdain that Harry shrugged, though it wasn't directed to him. Fortunately, that look last only a few seconds, and soon his eyes softened.

"I'm sorry for them. Really, I don't know what's wrong with them, these days…" Hermione started apologizing, glaring at Harry and Ron.

"I do." Nico answered.

Then, before they could ask him what he meant, he turned his back to them, and soon they saw him reach someone who'd been approaching the area they were at carelessly. Nico put his hand on the person's shoulder, and whispered something in her ear. Then both of them walked away, and finally the trio could see that the one who was heading to the castle with di Angelo was a small and scared girl with eyes of deep blue and caramel hair.

:.

_I'm sorry the new chapter was short – it will have to be this way if you want me to update soon. Next chapter (hopefully) the story will start to really move towards the real action!_

_I'm also sorry for the mistakes – it's kind of hard for me to write in English, since it's not my mother language… But I'm glad that even so you enjoyed the story! :)_

_Finally, thanks for the wonderful reviews! And I hope you've enjoyed this chapter…_


	5. The Mystery of the Key

**Chapter 4**

The place was surrounded by darkness, and all around what could be seen was black. The floor was black, and so was the ceiling – the sky was nowhere to be seen. It was gloomy there, with so much sadness and hatred impregnated in the air that even a psychopath would feel a shiver coming down from the deepest corner of his soul. From the distance, some screams and whining could be heard, resentful and desperate. Yet, the black haired boy who was standing nearby didn't seem to notice.

She couldn't really remember what was said by him, or what the other voice of a person outside her sight answered. All she remembered was the feeling of deep fear and despair grabbing her from the inside every time the one she couldn't see spoke, and a black metal cylinder being given to the boy she later recognized as being Nico di Angelo.

In the next dream, there was the same scenario, but the tones of the conversation had changed. She remembered the talk about a key, the one about someone called Riddle, and the mysterious' person rage when he talked about some people who'd escaped from him. Some discussion had followed (in which she found out that the man whose voice caused in her so much fear was Nico's father), and then it all disappeared.

Harry wondered what all that could mean. He wished he could tell this to his best friends, but he knew them well enough to know they would just laugh at him, or look at him a little concerned if he shared the dreams with them. He thought of Amanda, and he could almost see her before him again, whispering in her small voice about something _she_ didn't want to believe, too. He shook his head, feeling somehow he should believe her, as if there was a truth behind her words he should figure out – though he just couldn't.

Harry sighed, remembering the strange conversation with Nico. He thought of those dark sharp eyes, which had seen more than he could ever imagine, and suddenly knew there were too many tricks and lies behind them.

"…don't you think, Harry?" Ron's voice brought him back to the reality, and when he looked around, he felt surprised – they were already at the Great Hall. Harry mumbled a "yes" to Ron, though he had no idea of what his friend was talking about, and sat at the Gryffindor's table. Then his eyes accidentally crossed with Amanda's, and what he saw let him stunned for a moment – first, because she was at Slytherin's table, and second, because sitting by her side was Nico di Angelo.

"Hey… did any of you know Amanda is a Slytherin?" he directed his question to Ron and Hermione.

"Hm… no."

They both seemed not really interested, so Harry kept his thoughts to himself. He wondered if Nico di Angelo wanted to turn the little girl into a Death Eater, which, he thought, was quite improbable, but nothing else he could think of would make any more sense than that. He looked around, trying to avoid the boy who called him gay before – not that he was against homosexuals, but if Cho listened to any of that…

His eyes finally stopped wandering around when he noticed something was wrong. Harry remembered how all of the ghosts had suddenly disappeared when Nico had arrived, but then he just thought it should be coincidence – though it was certainly too odd. And now they were back again, and yet none of them dared to stand near the Slytherins table. It was like an invisible force kept them away, and observing how all of them glanced once in a while to that table Harry realized he knew that force quite well – it was pure fear.

Then he got an idea. He looked around, trying to find Nearly Headless Nick. It didn't take too long – he seemed to have a not very interesting conversation with Neville. The instant their eyes met, Harry called the ghost silently, and soon he had the translucent silver body near.

"Nick, what do you know of Nico di Angelo?" Harry saw the ghost's face turn as pale as it could – considering he was dead – and so he added, severely: "And don't say 'nothing', because I can see none of the ghosts go near him."

"But… no. I-it's… really nothing." Nick stuttered as he glanced nervously to the Slytherin's table.

"C'mon, he could be… someone dangerous. I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and shouldn't be afraid of helping his friends…"

"No. I'm sorry, I can't…" he hesitated, visibly disturbed. "You see, he… he wasn't supposed to be here… He _couldn't_ be here… Oh, I really shouldn't be saying this at all… But I think I should tell you this: he is _not_ who you think he is."

Harry stared at him with confusion. He couldn't know, could he…?

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." The ghost started to feel impatient – he looked as if he wanted to get away from that place as soon as he could. "What you thought about his…_father_."

"His… about Voldemort being his father? But… how… _how_ did you…?" this time it was Harry who stuttered. His eyes had widened, and his mind became a mess.

"We have our own ways to find out about things." It seemed Nick had recovered the full control over his voice, but he still didn't look good. If a dead person could collapse and faint, he would've certainly been unconscious for quite a time, now. "And again, he is _not_ who you think he is." He added, and then disappeared in the mid-air.

"What were you two talking about, Harry?"

He got startled as he heard Ginny's voice, but as soon as he calmed down, he told her it was nothing, and even though she surely didn't believe in his words, she didn't push him any further.

Next they had Umbridge, and as she told them not to take their wands, and started to speak about the chapter four of the book, Harry immersed into his own thoughts. It was only when he left the room (surprisingly without having inducing the old toad's rage) that he noticed Nico had participated of the class again, and that the weird cylinder that had been attached to his belt was missing. But he had much more to think other than stupid and meaningless black cylinders.

The strange things started to happen the night after Harry's weird talk with Nearly Headless Nick. They were all at the Great Hall, having dinner. The sky above was black and starless, as menacing as Angelina's expression while she spoke about the Ministry's decree about the "student organizations, teams, clubs, etc." – which included Quidditch. It had been a normal day, so far, and the sound of laughter and joy filled the place along with the delicious food's smell.

Then, suddenly, the candles that floated above them, lighting the Hall, started to flicker and almost went out. Darkness smoothly took over the place, and so did the silence. Everyone stood still for a moment – even the teachers. Harry's blood froze as he thought Death Eaters had finally come to Hogwarts, and it was when he was about to take his wand that two things happened: first, Dumbledore rose from his chair, with the wand in his hand, and second, a horrible shriek echoed in the corridors of the castle – and at the same moment Harry heard it, he knew it was non-human.

At that point, the tension could be seen and sensed everywhere around. Everyone had got their wands, and looked around as if expecting Peeves to show up and say somehow it was his fault. But of course that didn't happen. Instead, a timid din could be heard coming from the corridors – and, and the time passed, it went louder and louder, until they could recognize a noise Harry knew quite well – there was some kind of battle going on. From time to time a strident laugh could also be heard, together with some words they couldn't understand. Then, almost as suddenly as it started, the noise ceased. There was only the ominous rustle of the wind and a whispering voice that could not be differentiated from it.

One second passed in total inertia. Two seconds. Three. Harry didn't know why the hell he was counting – all he knew was that he wanted this anxiety to go away. And it did – the silence was broken by that same frightening yell from before, though now it was much louder, much more terrifying, and certainly much more furious. And following the yell, something came to the middle of the Hall. For a moment, Harry thought he had seen a despising creature with one leg made of bronze and the other one shaggy and brown with a donkey's hoof. But, no, that could not be true. He shook his head, and saw the woman how she really should be like – long eyelashes, beautiful lips and a stunning body. His heart barely stopped when he saw her beauty, and then it almost froze when he saw Nico di Angelo coming in towards her.

The problem wasn't really that it was _Nico di Angelo_ coming. The real problem was that he had an expression of somebody who was just about to kill another person – his eyes held such an intense, cold and controlled rage that Harry thought even Voldemort would shiver if he saw them. As he entered the Hall, it seemed the darkness that had been surrounding them thickened – but, again, that should be just his mind playing games with him.

With a fast pace, Nico approached the gorgeous woman, not even feeling intimidated by the fact that everyone in the room was looking at him with a disbelief gaze. And, before Dumbledore could do or say anything, he spoke, and his voice, too, was threatening.

"_Where is it_?" he spoke under his breath, and as the woman only looked back at him with a delighted smile on her face, he raised his tone, and asked again: "_Where is the Key?_"

Then a new strident laugh echoed in the silence, coming from the woman, and it only seemed to make his impatience grow – which didn't look like something Harry would want to deal with. He stepped towards the woman, but before he could reach her, she spoke with her amazingly annoying voice.

"Oh, dear, you are looking for the _wrong_ key…" her smiled widened, and a shiver came down from Harry's spine. He looked to his friends, and they seemed to have felt the same, considering their pale faces. "And when we find _our_ key…" she raised her tone of voice, almost screaming now. "When _we_ find it _you will all die_! You will all die, and the chaos will reign for once and for all!"

The woman laughed once more, and then, suddenly, all of her body started to burn. Smoke spread all over the nearest tables, as the orange flames roared and clattered. It seemed like her words had become true too soon, because all of the students, as if they'd woke up from a trance, started to scream, run, chat, cry, make spells against the fire – all at the same time. The professors tried to calm down the crowd at the same time they had to deal with the fire, and so it took about an hour for the confusion to cease. And when it did, and Dumbledore looked around to talk to Nico di Angelo, he wasn't there anymore.

And neither were Hermione, Ron and Harry.

:.

_I hope you liked the new chapter. Now I'm close to my vacations, and so I will be able to write more :)_

_Ah, don't forget to review (and to help me with my mistakes of grammar/meaning/etc.)!_

_And just to warn you: I already have another story about Nico coming after this one...  
_


	6. A Few Explanations

**Chapter 5**

"Damn, he's hard to follow!" Ron whispered after an intense and long silence. They'd been following Nico di Angelo from the moment he'd left the Great Hall – which meant they'd been wandering through the corridors for about an hour. They'd almost lost him twice, but that seemed not to make any difference, considering he seemed to be walking around with no clear objective – or even no objective at all.

Ron thought of telling his friends to give up, before they got into trouble. It was clear for him they wouldn't find out anything that night, and all he wanted after such a tiresome day was his soft and cozy bed. Yet, he didn't dare to say that out loud – both Harry and Hermione had such a determined look on their faces that he knew his words would definitely not be welcome.

The most impressive thing, though, was the fact _Hermione_ was the one who seemed about to explode of anger, frustration and so many other feelings Ron didn't dare trying to figure out. He shook his head, wondering why that strange American guy _had _to appear and make their lives even more complicated. Then, with one second delay he realized something had changed.

Nico had stopped moving.

He glanced at his friends, and they were suddenly completely alert. A few moments passed, in a complete immobility of both sides, and then Nico turned to their direction, and spoke.

"Could you three _please_ stop following me?" there was some irritation in his voice, but his eyes didn't seem as threatening as before – he was just bothered.

The three of them kept silent, hoping he wasn't talking to them.

"_Yes_, I'm talking to you, Harry… Potter, right? And… I don't remember your names, but… Really, you should only try stalking someone if you're good at that."

"You mean… you _knew_-"

"We weren't following you." Harry interrupted Ron before he could say something stupid – though what he said was even _more_ stupid.

"Oh, no, you were just wandering around the castle randomly in the dark just for fun. And it just happened accidentally that you were going by the same way I did…" the sarcasm in Nico's voice didn't seem to have made Harry really happy, because he suddenly started to yell at him.

"WHO ARE YOU TO TALK TO US ABOUT THAT? YOU WERE SPYING ON US! AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, ANYWAY? AND-"

"-Harry! Stop it!" Hermione grabbed his arm, and her eyes were so intense he shut up in one second. Then she looked at Nico, and spoke. "Alright, I'm not naïve enough to think you are going to say what you are doing here, but I really think that after what happened today you should at least say what was that _thing_ and what she meant by _you will all die_. I mean, that's the least you could do. And notice I'm not even asking you about that penknife in your hand, though I really wanted to know…" Her expression was hard and firm, and what she said seemed to make sense, so the silence was kept as Nico thought briefly of her words.

"No." was his answer. "The less you know, the better it is."

"No, it's _not_! You can't decide what is better for any of us!" Hermione let some of her anger go out. "We must prepare if there's something dangerous coming! You can't keep us in the dark…"

"Yes, I can."

"But…"

"You wouldn't even be able to fight them, even if you wanted."

"… But if V-Voldemort…"

"Ah, c'mon!" Nico smiled sarcastically. "You mean _Tom Riddle_? Trust me, he is the smallest of my worries at the moment."

Their eyes widened considerably at that. Was he really talking about Voldemort as if he was… nothing? Nico saw that, and he tried to use this moment of astonishment to escape, but Hermione soon recovered and asked:

"But then… that… _thing_ was even more dangerous than _him_?"

"What _thing_, Mione?" Harry asked, looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Harry, you saw her legs, didn't you? So, what _was_ she?" she approached him, and almost grabbed him so that he wouldn't run away – but he stepped back just at the right moment.

"I already told you I'm _not_ gonna say a word…"

"…Please?"

"No."

"But…"

"No 'but'." He gritted his teeth, visibly irritated. Yet, Hermione seemed even more annoyed, considering her face was flushed and her eyes were glittering menacingly.

"But you will tell _me_." A new voice arose from the dark. The four looked behind Harry, where it seemed to have come from, and then they saw a small shape come towards Nico. When a flash of light passed through the person's face, they saw a pair of deep blue eyes and a small and defiant face framed by soft caramel hair.

Nico looked at her fairly surprised. Then he turned to Harry again and said:

"_That_ was what I was talking about when I said that you should only try stalking people if you're good at that… And _you_ are very good." The last sentence was naturally for Amanda. He gave her a smile, but she didn't return it. Instead, she just replied:

"Don't try changing the subject. You _will_ tell me, won't you?"

This time, he didn't look so surprised. Nico observed her for one moment, as if analyzing who he was dealing with, and even though his eyes were sharp and obscure Amanda didn't falter at all.

"How old are you?"

She hesitated, wondering if he was testing her or if he just wanted to change the subject again.

"I'm… eleven."

Nico shook his head, looking tired – and ignoring the fact that Hermione, Ron and Harry were now only watching their talk as if it was a Ping-Pong game.

"Too young."

"What?" Amanda didn't seem to like the answer, for her face got suddenly flushed in anger.

"You're too young. It's too dangerous."

"That's not fair! You know what _that_ is! You know what all of that meant! Why can't I…? I need to know…"

"_We_ need to know." Hermione entered the conversation again. "We _must_ know what is so dangerous that would make us all die. And maybe, by knowing it, we could even help you to find what you wanted… That _key_, or…"

"No!" Nico raised his voice, starting to lose his patience – which didn't feel like something good. The darkness around them seemed to thicken, and yet, as before, Harry _knew_ that should be just a coincidence, or an illusion; and so should be the fact that the air around them seemed to have become colder, though he just couldn't deny his heart seemed to have shrank inside his chest.

Then, suddenly, footsteps could be heard approaching the place they were standing, and for a moment the trio of friends and the Slytherin girl got distracted by it. Yet, as soon as the noise got smoother and disappeared, they turned to Nico – or to where he _was_, because in those brief instants he had already managed to go away.

:.

"Harry, Ron! Hagrid is back!" Hermione opened a big smile as she rushed into the Common Room.

It was night already, and though Christmas was about to come, the snow hadn't shown up yet. The air was cold and thin, making them get closer to each other under the Invisibility Cloak. As they reached their missing friend home and saw the several injuries he had all over his face and body, they started asking him questions, trying to figure out why Hagrid had been away for so long.

Finally, after a round of discussions and persuasive arguments, Hagrid agreed of telling them about the mission Dumbledore gave him. He told them of the giants they'd met, and explained how their attempt of bringing them to their side had been frustrated – though he wouldn't say anything about how he'd got all those bruises.

It was already late at night when the trio decided to leave. And, before they did, Hermione suddenly had an idea.

"Hm, Hagrid, I have one last question for you…"

"What would that be?" he furrowed his thick eyebrows, and stopped midway to the door.

"Er… We know you know a lot about monsters…"

"Uhu…"

"… And you certainly know plenty of them…"

"…of course!..."

"So…have you ever heard of a monster that looks like a woman but has got… uh… one leg of bronze and the other one with a donkey's hoof…"

"You mean an empousa?" he glanced at her with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Where have you heard of it?"

They looked at each other, trying to decide whether they should tell him the truth or not. But Hagrid was their friend, and they knew they had nothing to fear by telling him – even though it was weird Dumbledore still hadn't told him nothing of what had happened.

So Harry spoke of the strange incident of the night before, and when he finished, Hagrid said:

"Well…that is quite… strange… These empousai… You see, they already lived here in England… But it's been a long while since they moved to the States. It's almost… well, impossible to find them here… or anywhere else."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Ron.

"There are lots of monsters like them who keep immigrating from time to time… And it's been a mystery for the wizarding world why they just change their habitat all in a sudden… 'Cause, you know, the ones who immigrate are always the same monsters, and always to the same area… You know that Sphinx of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry? Well, we had to bring 'em from America."

"And the empousai had gone to the United States…"

"…more or less at the 20s."

"Just after the first world war?" Hermione frowned.

"What are you talking about? First world war…?"

"The muggles' war."

"Oh."

"Anyway, what can those empousai do?" Harry hurried to ask, before Hermione started to give them a lesson about that war.

"Well, it's said that they are like vampires, you know? Suck people's blood to feed… young men's blood."

"Why young _men_?"

"Look, Hermione, I don't know. But I really think you three should be going before you get into trouble."

Hagrid was right, so they left to the castle in silence, thinking of what they'd found out, and wondering if other monsters would come after Nico, destroying the peace of their beloved castle.

:.

The morning wasn't shiny, or beautiful. But it wasn't too cold, too, so when they woke up at the time they had agreed to, the sleepy castle didn't seem so uninviting to their purpose.

Fred put the bag full of fart bombs on his shoulder as he walked by his brother's side silently with a smile on his face. What they were about to do would be really delightful.

Yet, before they could reach their target, something strange at the Great Hall made them stop. They glanced inside, wondering what that would be. At first, the twins couldn't see anything wrong around. The place was silent and still, as it should. The light had just started to invade the room, making long and distorted shadows on the stone floor.

It was only after a few moments that they realized what was weird. There was a smell in the air – and it wasn't the soft wooden table's scent, nor the humidity's aroma. It was a sweet and joyful one, one that with many people around and with the food on the tables would not be distinguished.

They stepped further, and, for a moment, they saw a little girl come away from the Professor's table, and look at them with a pair of deep and rascal blue eyes, smiling with some sort of complicity they knew well. Then the caramel haired girl disappeared, and they knew they had found their trickery successor.

:.

_I hope you like the new chapter… th__e next one will be much better…_

_Anyway, don't forget to review!_

_:)_


	7. The Last Halfblood

**Chapter 6**

It was night.

In the silent bedroom there was just the noise of tender snores and soft breath. Except for Ron's chest – going up and down as he swallowed and let go the air – nothing moved. The air was still, and so was the old clock over the small bedside table.

Harry, too, didn't move. With the famous green eyes wide open, fixed over nothing in particular, he thought of what he'd just done, of what he _could_ have done. He would have shivered from the thought if it wasn't the hundredth time he wondered about it.

He could have killed him. He _would_ have killed him.

Worry, despair, fear filled his heart. The agony of guilt wouldn't let him sleep, and he was glad about that – he was afraid he could attack his best friend if he closed his eyes.

Harry passed the hands over his tired face, breaking the immobility that had taken hold of the room.

He had almost killed Arthur Weasley. He had almost torn down his best friend's family. He had almost done something he would regret for the rest of his life.

:.

The Christmas had already passed, with its snow covering the whole England – but the area where rested the imposing castle of Hogwarts magic school. However, even if that fact for itself was weird enough, it was barely noticed considering all the strange events that followed it.

First, when Harry visited St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries what he saw was not just weird, as expected – it was preoccupying. The Healers walked around as if they were lost, and the cases of accidents with magical creatures had increased so much that if Mr. Weasley hadn't been a member of the government, he would still be waiting to be attended together with the tons of other people at the entrance Hall.

And as if the number of accidents wasn't bad enough, its mystery was. There were so many wizards and witches who had been bitten, torn out, broken, whipped, or poisoned in so many ways they couldn't know how to heal everybody – or even most of them. In fact, it could be said that the place had been drown into chaos and wouldn't find a way out any time soon.

Apart from that, by coming back to Hogwarts, Harry saw that much had changed. When he first stepped into his beloved castle, Filch went after him, inspecting him thoroughly – but he couldn't blame him after what happened to Umbridge a while before the Holidays.

The centaurs that lived at the Forest had left their refuge and wandered apparently randomly around the castle, never speaking to anyone and always with suspicion in their faces.

But the strangest thing was the fact that everyone was whispering, commenting and observing – and it wasn't about Harry. In fact, that was so strange for him not to be the center of all the attentions that he thought that didn't seem real. That didn't _feel_ real, at least. And he would've thanked God for that, if he believed such entity existed, though a sensation of a weird sort of emptiness filled him together with the relief.

A week passed without happening anything else that could possibly be considered strange. Everything – except for Umbridge, but there was nothing anyone could do about her – was going quite well, and even the pain and the visions Voldemort provoked had lessened, which was always something good. The only things that were making him feel not so perfectly relaxed since the comeback from his Godfather's house were Voldemort (_of course_) and the fact he couldn't see Nico di Angelo anywhere.

But it probably was the best for Nico – a very wise decision. Ever since the incidents with the empousa and the pranks Umbridge had suffered from _"someone with urgent needs of being disciplined"_, the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts glared at all the students with so much fury that they actually started being afraid of her. And, whenever she heard Nico's name, her eyes changed from simple and soft anger to complete and murderous hatred.

Yes, it was _certainly_ the best for him not to show up anymore.

Yet, that was exactly why Harry couldn't understand why it seemed people kept seeing him around; the whispers weren't for nothing, and they were only intensifying with time. And what he heard wasn't really making him feel comfortable – what it seemed was that Nico had decided to spend his time analyzing all the corners, corridors and secret rooms of Hogwarts. Wondering about it, Harry could only think he was after that _key_ he had mentioned before, but that still didn't explain anything.

That's why, even though Harry's worries had decreased considerably, he had decided to endure bravely the time he and Hermione spent at the library – researching over the empousai. He couldn't just pretend nothing happened, nor rest tranquil knowing he could do something… Even though he couldn't tell _what_ that would be, exactly.

It was one of these days at the library; while he watched his hopes vanish within him as Hermione looked up feverishly in books about monsters and magical creatures and found nothing, a scene nearby attracted his attention. It first started with a few rapid and nervous whispers behind the shelves. Then, in a sudden, a voice Harry knew too well rose above the others, and it said:

"…stupid mudblood."

Harry didn't know the context, and he had no clue who Draco was talking to. All he knew when he rose from his chair was that an enemy of a Malfoy would certainly be a friend, and so, ignoring the warning glance he received from Hermione, he walked to the place his old enemy was standing along with his bodyguards. Two things surprised him when he got there: first, that Draco was talking that way to another Slytherin; and second, that the Slytherin who had just been called "mudblood" was Amanda.

Draco looked at Harry, with the usual disdain and disgust, and smiled.

"Well, well, it looks like Potter came to help his _mudblood_ friend as always… It really looks like he enjoys being with the scum, isn't it?"

"If I _did_ like, Malfoy, I would certainly be your friend." Harry managed to say while gritting his teeth, though he couldn't understand why they were calling the little girl a Muggle-born. Weren't all Slytherins purebloods?

"Oh, Harry, that's an awful thing to say!" a new voice emerged near them.

"I mean, you would need to be _worse_ than scum to be his friend…"

Harry turned and saw Fred and George smile at him. He smiled inside, delighted, when he saw Draco step back, visibly uncomfortable with the inferiority in numbers. _That_ was a legitimate coward.

Amanda took the opportunity to escape from him, though Harry knew she couldn't run away for too long. But what surprised him the most was that the Weasley twins followed her, and in their eyes it could be seen that they really wanted to talk to the weird and apparently Muggle-born girl.

:.

Harry went as fast as he could to the Entrance Hall when he heard an unusual commotion coming from there.

As he approached, he could hear despondent wild screams grow louder, and the first thought that crossed his mind was that the Death Eaters were attacking Hogwarts. But soon he fond out that couldn't be it – there was only one person's voice rising desperate among what he soon recognized as whispers of a crowd.

The scene he saw when he entered the Hall was quite shocking and pitiful. 'Professor Trelawney was standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair was sticking up on end, her glasses were lopsided so that one eye was magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves were trailing haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she was falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside-down; it looked very much as though it had been thrown down the stairs after her. Professor Trelawney was staring, apparently terrified, at something Harry could not see but which seemed to be standing at the foot of the stairs.' (J.K. Rowling)

"You can't do this! Hogwarts is my home!" screeched the poor woman. "No, no… you c-can't…" the screams turned to sobs as she lowered her voice. Then, a falsely sweet girly voice rose from where Professor Trelawney had been staring – and Harry figured out who the terrifying vision was.

"It _was_ your home." There was amusement in her voice as she spoke. "Now please remove yourself from this Hall. You are-"

But she couldn't finish her sentence. For when she looked around to the shocked faces of the students something caught her eyes, and they gleamed in fear. Suddenly all of the talk ceased – the candle lights flickered, as it did in the incident with the empousa. With the eyes wide open and the breath faster, most of the students took their wands, hoping vehemently there would be no need to use them.

Harry tried to follow Umbridge's eye, but it seemed whatever she saw had moved, because he couldn't see anything around and she suddenly started to look all around nervously, as if she'd lost sight of the object of her attention.

The darkness grew around them, as it did before. There was only one thing that made Harry feel a little relived, and it was the fact that many of the DA members were at the Hall with him. If a fight started, at least he'd have people he could trust around him to protect his back.

The professors were all nervous. Harry could see their attempt of keeping things under control, but it seemed they couldn't decide whether it was better for them to leave the students to see what was going on or if they should stay with them, in case of protection being needed.

Professor McGonagall was the first to make a move. She walked towards the center of the circle of students that had been formed and said, in a clear and firm voice:

"Alright, I suppose the issue of Professor Trelawney's dismissal can be discussed later. Now, the monitors of each house should take their-"

A new bruit came from the darkness that had just formed all around them. Harry's first thought was that it should be a thunder's din, but when the sound got lower he distinguished a malicious laughter that made his body shiver with fear.

"Oh, you won't go anywhere." A deep creepy voice arose, and Harry could see most students tremble incessantly with their wands loose in their hands, visibly scared.

Then another voices – if you could call them that – echoed in the hall, and soon people realized they were laughs. Harry suddenly wished Dumbledore was there, even though he was mad at him because of the distance he had been keeping since the vacation had started. A cold grip took hold of Harry's heart, though it was quite odd for him to feel that about an invisible enemy.

A quiet exclamation was heard coming from a terrified Ravenclaw boy, and when the others looked around them to see if something or someone had showed up, all the lights went out and the Hall was sunk in complete darkness. Some girls whined – or maybe they were boys, though their voices sounded too screechy for Harry.

But the complete darkness was fortunately broken fast, as Professor McGonagall said "Lumus" in her calm exasperated voice. Harry instantly followed her in her action, and soon almost everyone had their wands up, just in time to see four pairs of intense red eyes stare at them for just one more moment – as if they were just having some fun before pouncing. Two huge shaggy black bodies, with one fast movement each, jumped to the middle of the crowd that looked at them with disbelief and fear, and started to sniff around as if they were looking for someone.

"Where is the other half-blood?" the bigger one roared as he looked to his fearful audience with rage. "I can smell three, but I only see two!"

The other three other monstrous animals, that looked like wolves – though they were much bigger, and much more terrifying – growled menacingly, and everyone shrunk. The apprentices of witches and wizards who had a Muggle parent looked even more terrified, though none of them could understand why they said there were _only_ three half-bloods.

Harry felt despair come to his heart in a strong and nauseous impulse, and at that moment he knew he couldn't win in a combat against those things. He knew his jinxes and spells wouldn't harm them enough to get out alive, as well as he knew there was no possible escaping route. It was just like when he fought Voldemort – but he couldn't think of anyone or anything to help them this time.

He was with those thoughts in his mind when each of the wolves in the middle of the crowd took one person – one student. The smaller monster, that had been quiet all along, held by the shirt a more or less 13 year-old boy, whose hair was straw like and whose wood brown eyes were awash of horror. The other one picked a small girl, and only when he put her again in the floor, between the two attackers, that Harry recognized her as the impotent anger got stuck to his throat.

The little scarred girl in the floor was Amanda.

"Now both of you must know who is the third half-blood, ain't that right?" the hoarse growl was carried with anger and malice. The kids shook their heads negatively, speechless. "Oh yes, you do." The menace behind his voice grew as he approached them. As their answer was a silent 'no' again, the one that seemed to be the alpha of the pack gave his thunder-like roar again, and Harry could swear the floor below them shook. "_You want us to believe that you have got no idea of who is the third of you and where is he?_" his roar got even more furious when the two kids nodded positively. He gave a hard blow with his paw on the ground, the red eyes glittering with fury and the dark dirty fur in his back bristled menacingly.

A new monstrous voice behind the crowd whispered delighted "Finally we'll have them for dinner!", and so the real chaos started.

:.

_Hope you like the chapter!_

_And don't forget to review…_


	8. A Dangerous Outcome

**Chapter 7**

Amanda grabbed the boy's hand and ran when the violent explosion of lights started. Harry's first thought was that he should stay and fight, but he knew that somehow protecting those two was the priority at the moment.

Spells were screamed, and so were desperate words and horror exclamations. A strange pride fulfilled his chest when he saw that the DA members were fighting the monsters with a salvage expression in their faces and almost as skillfully as some of the professors. Yet the good feeling – mixed, of course, with worry – turned to an awful apprehension when he counted only three wolves in the confusion behind him.

The two half-bloods had just reached the end of the houses' tables when a loud crack sounded by their side. Pieces and splinters of wood flitted all around both kids and Harry, in a dangerous rain. Harry raised his wand, holding it tight as he whispered a spell to clear the air right in front of him – and what he saw wasn't good at all.

The good news was that the huge wolf in front of them with the lips bared menacingly was not the biggest one. The bad news… Well, there was a huge monster looking forward to having them for dinner.

Putting most of the fear aside, Harry screamed the most powerful spells he knew, trying to get the beast's attention to himself and let Amanda and the boy escape. It didn't work. All the monster did in response was to look at him with annoyance, then give him some sort of bark and throw a bigger piece of wood in his direction with his huge paw.

Harry shouted "protego", and soon he was unobstructed again – but it was already too late. The wolf already had his paw over the girl, and his yellow teeth were at centimeters from her face. Harry raised his arm once again, though he knew it would be useless, when he felt their situation change.

Something shiny and golden coming from behind him hit the monster right at his face. He looked dizzy and snappy for a while, and when he saw who had tried to hurt him with a harmless plate he roared. The other wolves soon turned their heads to see what happened, and as they saw Nico's dark silhouette and scared face, there were laughs and hoarse whispers saying "It's him" and "The third one…" coming from all the pack – except for the alpha, that seemed quite suspicious.

More or less one second later to Nico's appearance, the focus of attention changed again. A strong light filled the Hall, and everyone's heart felt quite lighter when they saw Dumbledore was finally there to save them. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on the alpha's red malicious eyes, and then Harry knew that _that_ beast was no longer a preoccupation.

Both reinforcements had granted everyone a few moments of peace, but as soon as their coming got assimilated the fight started again. Both of the wolves that had been fighting with their alpha against the crowd jumped towards Nico, whose face became completely horrified and whose right hand went straight to his pocket. Harry heard the alpha scream "No!" before he got hit by a blue powerful flash of light, and when he looked again to the wolf that had gotten Amanda under his paw, he saw her eyes in fierce determination and knew her death wasn't as close as he thought.

Two unexpected things happened then: Harry couldn't see it, for his attention was focused on the action between the beast and the girl, but Nico's face, when the wolves were about to tear him to pieces, suddenly changed from the utter fear to a dangerous delight. In one second he managed to pull something black and reflexive from his pocket, and in the next moment he made a fast and gracious move to one of the creature's body, then to the other one's, and then all that could be seen was a smooth sort of steam – an apparently immaterial one - in the place where they had been, and a dark keen sword that seemed to be absorbing it in Nico's hand.

The other occurrence Harry had fully watched and even had participated as much as he could. When the enormous wolf was just about to literally take her head off, Harry ran nearer to them and, in the next moment, the animal was howling and retorting of pain. The wizard knew that was going to happen. He'd seen Amanda's closed hand hold a sliver of the table that had been destroyed, and had watched as the boy took a fork from the floor and drew nearer silently. When Harry moved, he'd already realized they were going to stick their respective 'weapons' in the creature, and thought that all he could do to help them was to attack it with the strongest spell he knew, hoping that would be enough for the monster to lose its balance.

It was. In the second the bleeding paw with the spiked table piece left the girls small body, she rolled fast to get out of his range. When the distance was good enough, she jumped to her feet with such ability Harry would have found very impressive if he hadn't other things to worry about. For example: the beast's tail had hit the boy in the ferocity caused by the pain and the anger, and he was thrown away in a way that the nearest target there was Harry.

He didn't get too intimidated. Instead, did what had been doing for all his life until then: hid his fears and attacked. He surely thought it would be hard, considering that all his offensives had been barely useless until then. But when the monster jumped to him and he saw himself forced to defend, he discovered the _defensive_ spells worked quite well against the brutal lunges. Harry smiled inside. _That_ was something he could do the whole night until Dumbledore came and helped him. He _was_ good at that. It was just being careful and everything would go right…

And that was when things got worse. It seemed the wolf had his own priorities, and Harry wasn't one of them. It suddenly stopped its attacks, sniffed the air and then turned to Amanda again.

"Damn!" Harry whispered to himself. But Amanda was now more prepared for the attack. She ran with an impressive speed making curves in her trajectory that made it more difficult for the beast to follow her. Yet, it was also fast and agile, and soon the 'rat and cat' race was over with the predictable ending – the defenseless rat was cornered as a small and insignificant prey. Harry didn't just stand still watching. He tried to follow them, but it was a hard task, considering their speed was quite unbelievable. He was preparing himself to cast a protective shield over her when again their enemy snorted and retorted in the air angrily. The girl again escaped, but in no time was back to the dangerous spot with a long broken table leg in her hands – that seemed too much like a toothpick near the beast for Harry to feel comfortable about it.

It took a few seconds for the wizard apprentice to realize what had happened. The creature's night black fur was so long and dense that it was almost impossible to see at first that there was someone tightly clinging onto it. It humped and leaped, but the boy on his back didn't let go, and when she got near enough of it and had gathered all the courage she had, Amanda used all her strength to stab the piece of furniture in the furious monster.

Black blood was spilt over her, and an agony yowl echoed ominously in the castle. Amanda finally backed away, her eyes wide open with shock, but it was only when the boy in the monster's back took the stake and somehow managed to pierce its neck with the improvised weapon, turning the beast into a pile of dust, that Harry could finally sigh relieved. It was finally over.

Or at least he thought so.

He only remembered the great alpha wolf that had been fighting against Dumbledore when it suddenly abandoned his battle in a fast jump and went straight to Amanda's direction. The principal even tried to stop him, but the creature had good reflexes and deviated easily. Harry also tried to protect the girl, but he was tired, and the spell barely made him slow down for a second. He gritted his teeth, feeling defeated. That wouldn't be enough.

Yet he was wrong again. That _was_ enough. For the boy who was laid on the pile of what seemed ashes looked like he was about to fall into unconsciousness – at least, that was what his body said. But his mind was still alight, and in his eyes there still was fire, determination and strength, and that second of delay that Harry had granted him, plus the few moments of Dumbledore's spell were just enough for him to gather his power, raise his hand and make his magic.

From the nude stone floor of the Hall, there suddenly came a profusion of thorns, stems and leaves. And they snuggled tight and fast around the ankles of the monster, making it stumble and fall just a couple of meters before reaching Amanda. The living ropes didn't last long, due to the beast's abnormal strength, but while they ruptured Nico approached just enough to stab the short deep black blade in its back, and the wolf, that had been struggling violently to kill the half-blood, finally disappeared and got sucked by that somehow frightening sword.

At first, the sudden peace felt strange to Harry. The silence that followed seemed to be ominous instead of pleasant – he thought it didn't seem possible to be _already_ over. His heart was beating with such intensity that it was all he could hear for some moments. Then, his state of deafness slowly left him, and his quick and arrhythmic breath became the focus of his attention before he let some of the adrenaline leave his trembling body. Finally, Harry looked around, trying to see if everyone was alright.

Ginny was the first close person he saw, and apart from some bruises, she looked just fine – or even better than that, considering the ferocious expression on her face. Near her, Neville had his head down and the hands over his knees, but it seemed he was just tired. Then Harry saw Cho, and his heart jumped quite happily to see she wasn't hurt either. His eyes started jumping fast from one person to another, ignoring superficial wounds and scared faces. Then he saw Ron, and he felt guilty he left his friends side. In his arm, there was a rip probably caused by one of the beast's claw. The blood had already been hindered from flowing, probably thanks to Hermione. It seemed he would be alright – he was even smiling –, but to see the white bone of one of your best friend exposed in the cut flesh was never a pleasant view.

It was about then that Harry's temporary deafness finally left him totally, and he could finally hear people's voices, wails and screams.

Reeling he moved in the direction of where a few professors were crouching – the most painful screams came from there. He didn't get too close, though. When he saw the pool of blood around the body, he thought he would throw up right there. A young kid had been bitten by one of the intruders, and in the place the marks of the teeth could be seen the flesh had been corroded as if the spittle contained some sort of acid.

Harry turned his face in horror. He'd already seen death before; he'd already seen blood - but not so brutally neither in such quantity. Nearby was Zacharias Smith, and though looking at him was as awful as looking to the kid, at least he seemed to have more chances to survive. His arm had been almost completely ripped, more or less like had happened to Nearly Headless Nick's head. There was blood in his clothes, and there was blood on the floor, but the injury had already been stanched, and even though the boy was as pale as death, at least there was hope for him.

Feeling dizzy and in deep sorrow, he turned his back to those who had been more severely injured. A question started forming inside his head. He first tried to avoid thinking of it, for that wasn't the appropriate moment to wonder about that issue, but after it infected his mind, the only way of getting rid of the bothering thought was knowing it's answer – like an antibiotic for a bacteria. The more he thought of it, the more intrigued he became – there would be no way, there _should_ be no way for all those wolves to invade the castle so easily. Not _that_ castle, considered the safest place in the world. No. There was something terribly wrong about that.

Harry kept analyzing the people around him with as much interest as the one he had about his own thoughts. Maybe someone _inside_ the castle had helped the beasts enter… If it was about Voldemort, he would surely say it was Snape's fault, but Nico had already discarded that for him. Unless…

"… but let him take just one sip, maybe two. More than that could be dangerous, understand?" Harry's mind got suddenly distracted. Nico and Amanda were together, and he was giving her instructions as he handed her a black simple canteen, that looked quite military. She nodded and went running towards the straw haired boy. Then Nico's eyes turned to the door, and he frowned, visibly bothered by something.

Harry then looked at that direction, and frowned too. He hadn't noticed before that the centaurs had been watching silent and he wondered since when they were there. But once again he had his thoughts interrupted by a not very pleasant voice.

"Mr. di Angelo, I must ask you to take your things and leave." An acid and well-known falsely sweet voice rose in the Hall, echoing so acutely and so hardly controlled that the rage behind it became just too evident. "Or you would dare to think that after this _absurd_ demonstration of violence you would still be welcome here?"

"Dolores, that is for me to decide." Dumbledore spoke, looking tired. "Besides, that is something that would be certainly better to be discussed in another situation."

There was silence. Umbridge's face flushed so hard it became purple, and it wasn't of shame – it was pure fury.

"But there's certainly nothing to be discussed, is there? Or you really will let such vicious behavior go on without the proper punishment? Will you give these kids such a bad example, Headmaster?"

"There's much more behind what's happened today than what any of us could imagine." That was all he answered, quietly.

"Maybe you are already too old and tired for this occupation, Dumbledore." The rusty tone from before became silk. "I understand you don't want to _waste_ your energies with such worries as a student's expulsion... And you should agree with me that such a mass invasion… quite shameful, eh?"

Harry felt a sudden wave of rage coming when he understood what was her purpose, and when he thought of the Ministry's fears, he realized Nico's arrival to Hogwarts had been quite troublesome and inconvenient – Umbridge surely got to the conclusion that the Headmaster's intentions of usurping her beloved Fudge's position had led him to the initiative of contacting another countries in a desperate search for allies. How Harry actually managed to think all that while he simmered of fury was a mystery even to himself, as well as it was indeed a surprise that he still hadn't tried to jump at the High Inquisitor's neck.

But he didn't, and so he could testify another surprising fact when Nico di Angelo answered her instead of Dumbledore.

"Professor Umbridge, I must say that you are wrong about those two things." He tried to sound harmless and humble, but anyone could see the arrogance he hid within. "The Headmaster could even _try_ expelling me, and he surely would have done that in the first day I stepped in here… But it would make no difference, 'cause I still would stay. And the second thing… I heard a lot about the defenses of this castle, and if they were broken somehow it _wasn't_ his fault. Someone probably let them in. A _very_ powerful… person."

Nervous whispers suddenly spread all over the place. Harry raised his eyebrows – so then he _could_ be right. His thought of Voldemort being part of the… group which was doing something he had no idea what could be and that probably had stolen the key that Nico was looking for. Besides, the own Nico said that Voldemort was "the smallest of his worries at the moment" – he never said he _wasn't_ a worry.

"Oh, really? And you could certainly tell us who would be such a _powerful_ person – if he even exists."

"I don't know… and I don't care."

"You say you don't care about the safety of this castle and the people within it? And you still think, Mr. di Angelo, that we should allow you to stay here even so? A foreign person who comes here claiming to be wizard but carrying no wand, acting so despicably violently, attracting monsters to this school, _causing the death of one student._ Oh, no, you definitely are supposed to leave now, and I think all the students - the _real_ students - will be glad when you do so."

"But much more people would've died if it wasn't for him!" Amanda shouted indignant.

"No, they _wouldn't._" she answered harshly.

"Yes, they _would._" Nico hissed, exasperatedly. Harry shrugged when he realized the American boy was losing his patience.

"How, if they were looking for _you_?"

"They weren't." his voice was colder than ice, and so were his eyes. "They were looking for the key for their success that is supposed to be in this castle. It just happened that there were people who shouldn't be here around, and they thought of stopping for dinner…"

"…but they were afraid that one of you might be dangerous for them, isn't that right, Mr. di Angelo?" Dumbledore entered in the discussion again, his voice echoing calm and silky in the Hall. He glanced at the place where there were both of the most seriously injured, and Harry saw Madam Pomfrey taking Zacharias Smith with her.

Nico nodded – but Umbridge wouldn't give up with just that.

"And what would be that key, then?"

"I don't know. I thought it could be the same as the one I am looking for…" he didn't finish his sentence. His expression, which had softened a little, became once again impatient and bothered, and he added "Of course, if you want to blame me for anything, then you should try blaming those centaurs, too. I bet _no one_ would've died if _they_ had intervened instead of just watching."

Knowing their temper quite well – by personal experience – Harry imagined they would at least get furious at him, and probably would complain of his insolence or even just attack him at once. But their reaction was quite astonishing – they just mumbled a few silent excuses as their faces got as pale as Nico. Harry then thought it could be just because of the Headmaster's presence in the room, but later on the matter kept disturbing and intriguing him.

"Do you think you are going to escape justice by pushing the blame to the others?" her voice was velvety, as if predicting some sort of victory.

"Define _justice_." That was all Nico answered, quite exasperated. "Well, then, I think this discussion is over by now, right? For the sake of the injured." That said, he started walking towards where Harry imagined his room would be – but he didn't go too far, for Umbridge with a single movement of her wand tied him up with a rope. The sword he was holding clanged when it hit the stone floor and he would've fallen, too, if Amanda hadn't reached him just in time.

"Oh, no, Mr. di Angelo." She smiled sheepishly and blandly. "I believe we still have a lot to talk about."

:.

_Hey, I've been thinking… what if I made a Nico trilogy?_

_I mean, I already have the other two complementary stories all ready inside my head. So please vocalize your thoughts...! :) (not literally, of course)_

_I hope you liked the new chapter… my longest one. :D_

_And again… don't forget to review!_

_(and I'm sorry if my English is bad or just too poor…)_


	9. Waiting for the Shadow

**Chapter 8**

The silence and tension that surrounded the people in the Hall filled the air, making it feel too dense to properly breathe. Nico looked from Dumbledore to Umbridge, from Umbridge to Dumbledore, as if trying to anticipate what was to happen next. Harry clenched his fists. Even though he didn't really like the American boy, it was definitely not fair to him, especially considering that if it wasn't for his intervention, there could have been much more casualties.

"Dolores, you can't do this to a student." Dumbledore's voice wasn't as soft as before; there was a warning in his tone – almost like a threat.

"But he is no student, is he?" her smile widened and her eyes glittered with malice.

"What do you want to know?" Nico grumbled, piercing her with his stare. He didn't really seem _angry_ – it seemed he thought of that as just a small and irritant inconvenience.

"Everything." was her answer. "Starting with why _exactly_ you are here."

"I told you already. I am after a key…"

"Lies!" Umbridge hissed, thought she didn't look upset at all. In fact, it seemed it was just the answer she wanted. "I understand that if we talked in privacy you might feel a bit more comfortable to tell the truth, right, Mr. di Angelo?"

"That _is_ the truth. You heard when that woman said it, right?" his tone showed boredom, but Harry felt there was something wrong about him… he just couldn't tell what.

"Dolores, release the boy. We may speak of this matter later." It wasn't a request.

"I believe the Minister will be shocked to know that you, of all people, Dumbledore, _you_ are supporting a _thug_. Really, this school is in worse conditions than I had thought!"

"And I believe the Minister will certainly not approve actions that could possibly become diplomatic problems, you see. So why don't you just let him go, so we can discuss with him all that should be discussed?"

"Oh, I don't think so. The Minister, you see, has been contacting the American Ministry, because of this boy's sudden visit… And you know what the most intriguing thing is? They have absolutely no records of a wizard called Nico di Angelo." She smirked triumphantly. Someone who apparently didn't exist in the wizard world wouldn't cause many 'diplomatic problems'.

"Hey, are you really gonna start discussing about politics now?" Nico rolled his eyes, for Harry's surprise. There was something about his attitude that definitely didn't match the situation he was in.

Both Headmaster and High Inquisitor totally ignored his inappropriate question and kept glaring at each other. Harry knew he couldn't really do anything in this case but watch – he was aware that any intervention of his would make the situation for Dumbledore even worse. And even if he still was holding grudges about the fact the Headmaster had been ignoring Harry ever since the last summer vacation, making things difficult for his greatest mentor wouldn't do any better.

Then, all in a sudden, Umbridge made a move. With a defiant expression on her face, she raised her arm, and as she abruptly twitched her wand, the rope got impelled, pulling Nico to her direction involuntarily. Yet, that happened for just a fraction of second, and what Harry saw next made him quite impressed, even against his will.

He had already noticed that in the place where the American boy stood, the shadows seemed thicker and darker, but he hadn't really given too much credit to that observation, since it had become quite usual and it could always be a trick of the light. But when Nico got pulled so violently, the shadows gained life, holding the boy so firmly that Umbridge even started sweating after some time making such an effort. It was really quite a scene – to see the immaterial darkness to embrace and shield a person's body the way it did, to watch it move, twist and swirl as if it wasn't lifeless as it should be… it all turned out to be fascinating, though it was very subtle and made chills come down through his spine.

Yet, no matter how fascinating it might have been, it still was nothing compared to Umbridge's face when she saw that her spell didn't work out. It turned pale, and then red, purple and blue; moreover, the contortion it got due to the overflowing rage made her face get so wrinkled she actually looked just like a raisin.

Priceless.

With the swollen and stocky body trembling so much she looked like a naked Eskimo in the North Pole (except for the fact that she was fortunately not naked), she once again raised her wand in Nico's direction. At the same time, both Dumbledore and Amanda reacted – the first by imitating the Inquisitor's action, the second by positioning herself between the woman and the boy.

Umbridge froze for a moment.

"Get out of the way." Her high-pitched voice sounded a bit too salvage and uncontrolled as she snarled.

"I won't." Amanda returned the angered glare with a calm yet defiant expression. "Now, please, stop it and let him go."

The professor smirked. Was she getting orders from an eleven-year-old girl?

"Excuse me? I think there is a misunderstanding here." The tone of her voice lowered and she spoke as softly as she could. "The one who should decide whether the young man here must or mustn't be released is _me_."

"No, Dolores, it's me." Dumbledore's threatening aura was already gone, though his eyes still gleamed in a silent warning.

"It doesn't matter! You have to let him go!" her demanding tone didn't seem to please Umbridge, but she didn't care.

Before the High Inquisitor could say anything else or interfere, Amanda quickly took the black sword that was lying on the floor, and in one fast movement cut the fibers as if they were made of butter. Nico sighed in relief, smiling gratefully and making her flush in response. He put his hands over the left side of the body, and it was only then that Harry saw the blood.

"_Why did you do that, Mrs. Walker? Don't you understand you put the other students of this institution in danger this way?_" the snarling returned, and Harry thought (smiling inside) this was _really_ not her day.

"I don't care if you think that!" the caramel haired girl shouted back, with a bit of despair in her voice. "I hate this place, I hate these people full of prejudice!" she turned her eyes directly to Draco as she spoke. "If I hadn't been sent here, in first place, mom wouldn't have died." The despair became bitterness, the anger became sorrow. Her eyes, which were first anguished, turned back to Umbridge accusative, and her skin suddenly seemed paler.

"And what would you mean by that?" Umbridge hissed, suspicious.

"Give me back my sword." Nico said almost the same time, in a soft whisper.

Amanda hesitated, looking at both of them as if deciding something, though she didn't really seem to be paying attention at neither of them.

"What would you mean by that, Mrs. Walker?"

"Give me the sword!"

Amanda blinked, the deep blue eyes suddenly focusing on the reality. Then, without a word, she handed the lethal weapon carefully to Nico, upsetting the professor even more.

"Thank you." Nico murmured under his breath. As she returned him the sword, the color flushed back to her face, and her expression became a little less tense.

"_Mrs. Walker. What. Did. That. Mean?_" she put an unnecessary emphasis on her words, as if she was trying to talk to a retard.

Amanda looked then towards Nico, asking silently for his permission. He whispered something to the sword, and it shrunk and folded itself until it became a penknife. _The_ penknife. With an impatient expression, that felt a bit arrogant to Harry, he nodded positively and put the black iron object inside his jeans' pocket.

"I… I know you won't believe it…" she started, in a bitter tone. "Well…after people found out I was a wizard, and that man appeared back home to tell my mom 'bout that, the first thing she said was that she wanted to be sure I would be safe. That's why I ended up here… it was said to be the safest place in the world. I had no idea of why she was so worried… All I knew was that she told me to always do what's right no matter how hard and painful that was, cos then dad would be proud and come to me… She told me I should live, because I would do something important and good…" she blushed and hesitated. Harry thought he could see her eyes gleamed with tears, though she didn't shed them. "Then, last week, I had this awful nightmare." She gulped. "Two of those wolves that attacked us today went home after mom… They asked her where I was, and when she didn't tell them, they killed her."

Umbridge raised an eyebrow, staring at Amanda with sarcasm on her expression.

"And?"

"Next day I received a letter notifying me about her death." Her voice was soft, but her eyes were stiff and cold.

The silence that followed was as fragile and as hard as glass. Everyone's breath was suspended, and everyone's mind was considering her words, though the facts she appointed, sensitizer or not, were just too hard to believe. Even so, it could be clearly seen that her eyes held the fire of the brave, the serenity of the lucid and the consistency of the honest – which just didn't make any sense.

An unpleasant giggle broke the suspension of noises that had been kept in the Hall. It rose and echoed with so much disdain and fake pity that Harry felt his disgust for that disrespectful woman impregnate his skin and be disseminated through his body. The anger he felt towards her rose in his chest, and so did his impotence. There was nothing he could do to make the situation better.

"Let me see if I understood well: you, Mrs. Walker, had some _delusions_ about your mother's death, and for that reason you believe that everyone's safety in this castle is not important, that…"

"It's not like that! They're not delusions! And I'm not risking anyone's safety by releasing the person who actually _saved_ everyone tonight." She sighed and, before Umbridge could complain about her interruption, she continued. "Before today, even _I_ had doubts about those dreams… if they were true or not… But today… I'm sure two of those wolves who attacked were the same who killed my mother. I just know it. If you don't believe that… Then that's your problem. If you try to stop Nico from doing what's right, then I'll have to oppose to you, Professor Umbridge." At that point, Nico's expression turned from an enigmatic passivity to a mysterious euphoria that could make anyone believe he was just about to start running around naked screaming 'Eureka!' (except for the fact he naturally wasn't naked). "I know that it sounds pretty arrogant and audacious the way it was said… What I really mean is that this is a matter you don't have to worry about…"

"Who decides whether a matter is of my concern or not is _me_, Mrs. Walker." Umbridge's voice sounded like poison, and it was filled with confidence, but somehow Harry knew she had already lost.

"Pardon me, but I actually thought that who decided about that was the Minister…" a timid voice rose right behind Harry. It was the straw haired boy who was supposed to be a half-blood.

Umbridge gnashed her teeth, and it was clear she was just about to take anyone who dared to oppose her on her blacklist – which was definitely not good. Yet her anger was soon put temporarily aside to give place to astonishment as she stared to the boy who stood so precariously.

Harry looked at Nico, whose brow was furrowed in a non-impressed interest. Then he looked to his friends, to his professors, to Dumbledore. All of them held expressions of curiosity and amazement. He finally turned to the boy again, to see what had made even the old toad shut up, and his eyes widened too.

Above the head of the one who'd suddenly become the center of attention of everyone in the Hall, a strange glittering sign that looked like a horn spun. The boy looked up confused, certainly wondering what that gleaming sign that was the same color of his hair was doing there. Yet, as suddenly as it appeared, the image vanished in the air, leaving no explanations with it.

An awkward silence followed, and when it was broken, it was Dumbledore who one again was in charge. Umbridge didn't seem to have any more strength to argue anymore, and only after he reunited with Ron and Hermione he understood why – Nico di Angelo had already disappeared.

"Did you see that horn?" Ron said when Harry approached.

"It's _not_ a horn, Ron!"

"Of course it is…"

"Don't listen to him, Harry. It's a _cornucopia_." Hermione replied severely as she started to walk, following Professor McGonagall to Gryffindor's common room.

"A _what_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn't answer. It seemed she had just too much to think about and talking was the last thing she wanted to do – for which Harry was glad, considering he felt the same way. Ron didn't seem to share their need for silence and reflection, but he didn't have much time to talk to them either – his arm was injured, and though he said he was just fine, Madam Pomfrey still insisted she should take him to have a look on the wound.

They walked side by side, along with their Gryffindor comrades who, due to the fact their attention was totally absorbed by their own conjectures, seemed faceless. Harry and Hermione were almost in front of the entrance of the common room when they suddenly felt a strange yet familiar presence behind them. Harry felt that natural urge to turn, but Hermione just held his arm tight as a warning.

"Open the entrance at midnight." A murmur as smooth and discreet as the softest breeze could be heard coming from behind them and, as suddenly as it appeared the presence vanished.

The two friends looked at each other with the same thoughts in their heads.

"Should we…?" Harry whispered, looking a bit troubled.

"Only if the common room gets empty by then." She replied while stepping forward to their cozy round room, with the comfortable squashy armchairs already full of people who talked in rapid and nervous tones – certainly about what had happened earlier.

They joined Ginny and Neville in their conversation, but their minds were elsewhere – they thought about their meeting that was to take place in 2 hours and 37 minutes. Only 2:37.

36.

Harry frowned. These would be _long_ hours.

:.

_First of all I want to thank my dear friend Ally Scrip__ for the great ideas she gave me for this chapter. Then, I wanted to thank my dear readers for... well, reading it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you recognize the Archimedes' quote :)_


	10. A Request and a Nightmare

**Chapter 9**

"How do you feel?"

"Much better. Thanks."

Harry looked from Hermione to Nico, from Nico to Hermione, wondering how they actually got along well so fast. It was really a mystery, though his 'performance' against the monsters that same night might have helped. Now the American guy was sitting with them, in front of the fireplace of _their_ common room with a randomly picked cloth soaked in the solution of strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles that Harry knew well pressed against his wound. As he said himself, it wasn't a serious injury, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful, and knowing that Hermione knew a lot about a lot of things he believed she would know a way to help him.

Yet, that didn't seem to be the only reason for him to have come. Harry really didn't know why he'd got that feeling, but he'd learned to trust his instincts. So he waited (not very patiently) for the real reason of the meeting with the American boy. Yet, time kept passing very slowly and soon he got tired of waiting for the answer of a question that hadn't been made.

"So why are you here anyway?"

Nico's eyes focused on him, and his relief expression (caused by the solution pressed against the wound) turned to confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you're not here just to ease the pain, are you?"

Nico frowned, and the fire he'd been staring at flickered for an instant.

"Why wouldn't I be? I mean, that is a very good excuse."

Harry then smiled. His instincts were right.

"'Course it is. But you still haven't answered my question."

There was a moment of stillness in which they analyzed each other with a sort of mutual suspicion that made them look as if they were in the middle of a quarrel to decide who the alpha male was. Then Nico turned his eyes to the fire again and sighed.

"I need to explain you a few things… and ask you a favor."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances with complicity.

"What kind of favor would that be?" asked Hermione.

"It's actually very simple… though a bit troublesome." Nico then passed his hand on his hair, in an apparently mechanical movement. His face seemed relaxed and uncompromised, but there was something on his expression – something of an abstract knowledge of what was to come – that made them both realize there were important events they would never guess on their own going on.

"What is that supposed to mean?" it was Harry who asked, with a hesitation that came from his guts, not from his brain.

"Well, there is something I need to find that seems to be inside this castle." His dark sharp eyes wandered around the common room – he seemed quite interested about the decoration for a few moments, though soon that interest vanished and his attention went towards Harry and Hermione again. And, when he turned, Harry had a glimpse of a piece of a leather cord around his neck that disappeared inside his black shirt, and so he wondered what the pendant of the necklace would be – probably a skull or anything as macabre as that. But those divagations were totally unimportant, and therefore he put them in the bottom of his mind, determined to forget about that.

"And what would that be?" asked Harry.

"It is the key, right? The one that empousa was after?" suddenly Hermione's small distrust turned into excitement, though Harry couldn't really see why; looking for something that could be as small as a paper clip in a huge castle wasn't exactly his idea of fun. Besides, the demonstration of strength earlier only increased the suspicion over Nico, who seemed capable of anything to get to his goal.

"Yes." Nico looked surprised when he heard her mentioning the empousa, but soon pulled himself together. "But, you know, you must be aware that this key is not necessarily a _key_." Harry smiled at the paradox of the sentence, and then paled when he realized what it actually meant. "It could be, for example, the _key_ of success, the _key_ for making a good party, that kind of stuff."

"A figure of speech."

"Exactly."

"So basically it could be anything." said Harry in a skeptical tone.

"That's right."

"Anything inside this castle."

"Correct."

Harry could do nothing but staring at him for some moments, so great his disbelief was.

"And… how are we supposed to find it, then? Or even better: _why_ are we supposed to be helping you?"

Nico smiled.

"Maybe because all of those attacks we've had here in this castle were motivated by this lost key. You must remember that the empousa asked for it-"

"But the wolves didn't mention any key." interrupted Hermione.

"Do you remember what that girl-"

"-Amanda?"

"Yes, that one. Do you remember what she said about that dream she had with her mother?"

"She said she had a dream in which two of the wolves attacked her mother…"

"Well." Nico stretched his legs lazily as he spoke. "The fact is that Amanda is supposed to do something important in her life – no one really knows what yet. Those wolves that went after her were, as she said, the same that came to Hogwarts. But there were only two of them in her dream…"

"And the other two…?"

"I assume, by what I know so far, that the other two had been looking for the key we all want. Then, during their investigation, they found out that both the key and the girl were on the same place and joined forces…"

"… and their priority target was the girl and not the key." mumbled Harry, thoughtful.

"Unless the girl and the key are the same, of course." Hermione twitched her eyebrows as she thought about what had been said.

"They're not." Nico's attention turned to her as he added. "This key, whatever it is, has been lost a few _centuries_ ago."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound for a few seconds – for the three minds in the room immersed in their own thoughts as the facts had been given. Harry again looked from Hermione to Nico, and vice-versa, as if he was trying to understand what was going through their minds – unsuccessfully.

"But what if your assumptions are wrong?" Hermione finally rose her eyes from the floor and looked at Nico in a defiant way.

"They're not." He answered, simply. "And as to your first question…" he turned his attention to Harry. "You will only have to start looking for the key when I figure out what that is, alright?"

He tried rising from the chair, but Hermione stopped him and in one second managed to bandage him in a way that would make Madam Pomfrey proud.

"And when are you going to try figuring that out, uh?" Harry insisted as the other boy stood up and prepared to leave.

"Right now." Nico gave them a small smile, and then left the common room as quietly as he had entered. As he did it, the fire that had been lighting the place very timidly until then gained force and rushed wildly inside the fireplace.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other for a long time without saying a word, and then turned their backs to each other, heading straight to bed.

:.

There were four wolves in front of him. Four giant wolves with black pelage and evil red eyes. And they were dancing.

Yes, dancing.

Harry, though, didn't feel like laughing at all. Instead of thinking how funny the scene was, a deep despair grasped his heart and made him feel drowned in helplessness. This wasn't right. These wolves shouldn't be dancing as if nothing had happened.

By his side, Ginny, Cho, Ron and Hermione alternated horrified screams and harsh reprimands. "How come did you let them do that, Harry?", they said. And so the dread exploded inside his heart, and the wolves wouldn't stop dancing and making that high pitched laugh that reminded him of Umbridge and, in a sudden, their faces became the High Inquisitor's…

And then the dream changed.

There wasn't that enthusiastic and frantic rhythm anymore. There was no despair either. There was just cold and silence.

Harry was sat on an uncomfortable white chair that tried to resemble a throne. In front of him, there was a desk, in which his pale long fingers pattered impatiently – she was late.

The room itself was simple: the white wall in front of him formed an arch that had its center in the place the chair was disposed. There was nothing hanging in them, and the stone floor was as nude as it could possibly be. Only one window could be seen in the entire room, and it was just like the door – a simple hole with the shape of a rectangle, very boring and roughly made.

Harry hissed exasperated. Then, as if to please him or to ease his anger, some noise interrupted the silence. He smiled. Finally.

His room was invaded impetuously, and before Harry could see any movement of his visitor a golden key landed on his desk, making a sharp noise.

"You can now do whatever you want with it. I've already used it for my purposes." A cold strong voice with an exotic accent echoed in the room. The presence of that person was rather powerful, but that still wasn't enough to intimidate Harry – neither that nor her astonishing beauty.

He said no word in response – instead, just took that magical object he understood so little yet admired so deeply. His long fingers touched it in devotion; his eyes analyzed it with hunger for the power it held. Harry was aware that the woman was still there, observing him, as well as he knew she despised him for what he represented. But he didn't care.

Some other noises broke the silence – footsteps and grunts. The woman looked towards the door, and so did Harry. Then, after a few seconds, she said:

"It seems we have some invaders here."

Harry frowned, but then smiled. He knew what she wanted him to do.

She made a gesture for whoever was on the other side of the black hole that was the door, and three teenagers entered staggering. The middle one and the girl on his left seemed to be about eighteen years old, and the other one just a bit younger. The boy in the middle was tall; his hair was black and his eyes with a sea green tone. The girl was a smart-looking blonde, and the other boy, as Harry soon realized, was not exactly a boy – his legs seemed to belong to a donkey and from his head grew horns.

Harry gritted his teeth. He hated those _things_ he had to live with ever since he found out about this other… reality.

"Well, I guess I will leave them for you to take care of with your green-lights-thing." the gorgeous woman said before she left as impetuously as she'd arrived. Harry took his wand calmly off the cloak, thinking 'this is going to be too easy'. Yet, that turned out to be a mistake: in the next fraction of second, the blonde said "Now!" and, following a cracking sound, chaos came in form of water.

Harry made his best not to gasp in surprise and swallow the water he got suddenly surrounded by when he opened his eyes. Through that violent whirl he saw the trio he was supposed to kill – and they were protected by a huge air bubble that was directed towards a hole in the floor. Harry wanted to scream enraged, his fury making his whole body tremble. Yet, he knew that there was nothing he could do by then, so, instead of following them, he just impelled himself to the air, struggling against the strength of the devastating flood.

Then he finally saw himself free of the water, with a cold breeze on his face and fresh air in his lungs. The snow fell from the grayish clouds, and all around him a world in white and blue could be seen expanded until the horizon – infinitely. A sensation of a bitter triumph rose inside his dead heart, but before Harry could taste it properly a deep loud roar came from just behind him. He looked down to the mountain he'd just escaped from. And he felt his guts, his stomach, his heart freeze in horror. A scene that terrified even him…

"…arry…Harry!"

He woke up with the sweat dripping on his face and breathing hard and fast. His heartbeats were accelerated – it seemed his heart was just about to break his sternum and jump out of his body. He looked at Neville, who had been shaking him to wake him up, but he did not really see the friend. All he saw was the mountain, and all he repeated, with an horror that was so instinctive and primitive he didn't even know where it came from, was:

"… the mountain is moving… the mountain is waking up from its rest…"

:.

_I hope you enjoyed this last chapter! (and all the rest of this fanfic either…)_

_I apologize for any mistakes that had been made… well, it's harder for me to write in English, but I give my best…_

_And please don't forget to review! Every comment, if not rude, is appreciated :)_


	11. Theories about Gods and Wizards

**Chapter 10**

Harry was nervous. Very nervous. It had already been one week, but that matter still bothered him. It had already been one week since he'd dreamed he was Voldemort. And if the fact itself wasn't bad enough, he'd also tried killing people in his dream – again. Fortunately, this time nothing happened, but who knew how the next time would be?

And then, there was the story of the mountain. He didn't know why, but seeing it shake and stretch like a human being was disturbing; watching it rise angrily from a rest that should be eternal gave him a fear sensation that was different from anything he'd felt before. It wasn't as sharp as when Dementors attacked, it wasn't as powerful as what he felt with the wolves – but it came from deeper, and it was primitive, illogical, rough and ominous.

His thoughts made chills come down from his spine, and so he avoided them. He looked around, trying to see anything or anyone interesting enough, but the corridors were desert. Therefore, he focused on the simple sound of his own echoing footsteps all the rest of the way to the library.

When he arrived, the first thing he noticed apart from the exquisite fragrance of old books made him smile – Hermione was sat by a huge pile of books and all he could see of her were her tiny hands and her abundant hair; by her side, Ron stared at the nothing too visibly bored, the eyes completely blank and the mouth half-open.

"So, what have you found out, Mione?"

She raised her eyes from the book she'd been devouring to look at him, and Harry could almost see the gears inside her head working faster than the human eye could keep up with.

"Many things." she answered.

Ron woke up from his trance that very moment. He shook his head, as if to get rid of his own thoughts, and then threw a smile to Harry.

"The problem is… well, they are weird." Hermione hesitated, which was always a bad sign. Harry frowned. As if all of his life until then hadn't been weird. Ha.

"Bring it on!" Ron said, getting strangely excited all in a sudden, and smiling again. Weird.

Hermione cleared her throat, and then started.

"Well, as you must remember, that night when those wolves attacked, the centaurs approached and Nico talked to them as if he was _used_ to dealing with centaurs, or at least with creatures like them." The boys nodded. "I was thinking, you know, that it could actually _mean_ something. So I tried to link any information I'd find about those wolves with whatever I could find out about the centaurs and the empousai, to see if I could figure out the relation among them…"

"…and find out _who_ exactly these so called half bloods are." completed Harry.

"Yes. And what I found out about the wolves was this: no one knows anything about them. I've read dozens of books and there is no single quote about them _anywhere_." She sighed, looking tired. "The most similar creature I've found was the werewolf, and we know quite well that is not the same thing."

"Oh, great." Harry mumbled, feeling his hopes of finding the truth fading.

"But…" Hermione continued. "But… there was information about the empousai, and there was information about the centaurs. And the strongest connection between them was the fact that they are from Greek Mythology… and that they live predominantly in the USA. I tried to… I _really_ tried to focus my attention on the 'they live in North America' part" she shook her head. "but the facts that came from this kind of investigation, if we may call it that way, resulted in nothing. I know the ancient myths are absurd, and I know that those gods they invented to explain their world don't exist – at least not as they are portrayed." At that point, a thunder roared in the sky and an eagle screamed – but the three of them just ignored. "Yet, if you stop to think of it, witches and wizards aren't supposed to exist either…"

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"…at least, not for the Muggles." She quickly corrected herself before it became an endless discussion and they forgot what they were talking about in the first place.

"And so I thought… _What if_ those gods really existed? We already know that the monsters of their myths are not just myths. If _that_ was true… then another part of their mythology would be true – the one in which they had children with the mortals." She paused and looked at them, with an expression of someone who'd just done an extraordinary revelation.

"And…?"

"Well, those children they had with the mortals – the Muggles – were in the myths called _demigods_, because they were half humans and, as the word says, half gods…"

"…which makes them _half-bloods_." Harry concluded, a little impressed.

"But that doesn't help us, Mione." pointed Ron. "Unless those gods really exist…"

"That's what I thought at first." she smiled. "But if you think that those gods _weren't_ really gods… If you think that they were _very_ powerful witches and wizards with a different kind of magic and with the access of some sort of philosopher's stone…"

"…then it could make sense." Harry finally understood what her point was. It certainly made more sense than if they were 'just' gods, and after thinking a little bit about the events that had happened, he understood that those three kids were probably more powerful than any of the students of Hogwarts – considering that they didn't even need wands nor any other kind tool for their powers to manifest. Besides, if the myths about the Greek heroes he'd learned before he found out about being a wizard – like the one about Hercules – had even a small portion of truth in them, it would make sense for those three to have such a natural ability for wrestling.

Yet, he thought, if _that_ was true, then they would be in trouble. The last thing they needed were super powerful people to get into their lives, considering they already had too much trouble fighting against simple mortals. Besides, the fact that there could be beings out there with so much power… well, it was quite frightening.

"And you know what I was thinking?" Hermione proceeded after letting them ruminate about what she'd just said. "In the legends, those halfbloods, or demigods… they lived among the mortals – who are also the Muggles. Don't you think that it would make sense if all those barriers and protections against the Muggles weren't _really_ because of them, but because of those _halfbloods_ that live among them?"

"Maybe…" Ron shrugged.

"Nearly Headless Nick _said_ something about Nico… that he shouldn't be here…"

Silence suddenly impregnated in the air, hovering precariously over their heads.

"Of course… This is just a theory. It could be something completely… different." Hermione added slowly, as if to see how her words would taste like, how they would sound like out loud. They sounded untrue.

She bit her lower lip, passed her fingers on her hair, in an automatic gesture, just waiting for the boys' words. She even tried to measure the full consequences of what they'd found out, if that proved to be true – but it was far beyond her capability.

"Harry!"

Their tense moment of stillness and reflection was abruptly broken by a small jaunty girl who'd entered the library with a half-smile on her face.

"Amanda?"

She sat by his side, completely ignoring both his best friends.

"You know what? Only because they found out I'm _not_ a Muggle-born, people in my house stopped annoying me. They're really jerks, don't you think? Of course, not all of them, but that _blonde_ one…"

"Yes, yes…" he looked at her trying to figure out _when_ exactly she decided to be so nice with him. Not that she had been rude to him before – but now it was completely different.

"So… what were you guys talking about? I didn't want to interrupt you before 'cos you looked too concentrated…"

"We were just trying to figure out…" before Ron could finish his sentence, Hermione elbowed him – and so he shut up with a pain expression and without knowing why he couldn't talk about their discoveries.

"…why hasn't rained all these months." Harry quickly completed for him. "And why the plants haven't died yet."

Amanda narrowed her eyes, looking suspicious, but she didn't push them. Instead, she just said deliberately:

"Emil probably knows all of this. It seems Nico believes he's more prepared to know the truth than I am."

"Who's Emil?" asked Hermione. Amanda frowned.

"Do you believe now in my dreams?"

Hermione hesitated, probably asking herself about the cause of the sudden question.

"No, but…"

"Fine." Amanda interrupted her as harshly as possible for a eleven-year old girl. Then she turned to Harry again, and he smiled. She was still so childish… "So, did you find out anything about the raining problem?"

He even opened his mouth to answer, though he had absolutely no idea of what he could say. He was saved by a familiar voice.

"The raining problem?" Neville sat by Harry's other side. "I talked to Professor Sprout about that. She said she doesn't know what's causing it, but she's been trying to supply as many plants as she can with water. All that are inside the limits of the castle, of course – except the ones in the forest, 'cause, you know, the centaurs didn't let her in. They said they were much better without her, which I doubt." he shrugged by the last sentence.

"But she's not enough to supply _every_ plant…"

"No." Neville looked through the window, as if trying to find answers in the now lurid landscape. "Certainly not. But they're still alive, aren't they? Professor Sprout says someone very powerful must have cast a strong spell…"

"Dumbledore?"

"No." he shrugged, and Harry, Ron and Hermione paled. If their theory _was_ right…

Amanda stood still for a while, thoughtful. Then something else caught her attention, making her disturb the moment of silence.

"Oi, Emil!" she called, and Hermione quickly turned herself to see who she was calling.

A young boy from Hufflepuff looked at their direction, and Harry instantly recognized him – he was that half-blood with the straw hair and wood brown eyes he'd seen the other day. Looking now closer, he could see that the boy had some freckles on his cheeks and a stern loftiness that oddly reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall.

"Emil…" she repeated as he silently approached. "Do you know why it hasn't been raining lately?"

He stared at her for a long time before answering.

"No."

She made a disappointed expression for a moment, but then her face got enlightened.

"And do you know what prevented the plants from dying?"

Again he took a while to answer, which irritated Harry a little – did he have to be _so_ slow?

"Yes." Emil finally answered.

"Yes?" her eyes glittered.

"Yes." This time he was quick, for Harry's relief.

"Then what would that be?" Neville seemed utterly interested.

"It's complicated." the boy sighed. "And even if it wasn't, I wouldn't tell you because you are not supposed to know about it." He had an exotic accent, Harry thought. An exotic accent that reminded him of the beautiful woman of his dream…

"_What?_" her indignation expression would be even funny for Harry, if he wasn't feeling more or less the same way.

"That's what you heard. He can't tell you anything." a well-known voice emerged, and everyone stood still and silent at once. It seemed, Harry thought, that Nico di Angelo would be a great teacher.

Nico approached the boy called Emil, standing right next to him with a tranquil expression on his face. As usual, he wore black – black overcoat, black tennis shoes, black jeans. He was just the same, but without that nervousness he seemed to be feeling before he's left, as if he'd just come back from vacations.

"How long have you been there?" Ron narrowed his eyes, deeply wary. He made his best though not to accuse him of spying them, even if he knew (or he thought he knew) that it was what Nico did. He didn't trust the American boy yet, after all. And neither did Harry.

"For about half an hour." he smiled calmly when Ron made the same indignant face Amanda had done before. Then he turned to Hermione. "You have been studying mythology all morning, right?" she nodded. "Am I wrong or one of the mythologies that has more references to wolves is the Norse?"

"That is correct. But I don't really see what this information's importance would be…"

"You're not supposed understand." he interrupted her as softly as he could, making her blush – of anger or shame, Harry couldn't really tell. "And about the key we are looking for: yes, I found out what it is." he paused. "Now this is how the search is gonna work: we split, look for our key, and, by the end of the day, ten minutes before the dinner, we meet here again. Anyone who finds a possible key tells me where it is and I'll go check it after the meal."

"And what _is_ it?" Amanda said, starting to feel impatient.

"It's a hammer."

Harry twitched his eyebrows. All this fuss for a _hammer_? A stupid _hammer_? It'd better be a very powerful hammer…

"And how will you know which one is the right hammer?" it was Hermione who asked.

"I just will." He smiled enigmatically – and then left.

:.

There weren't many hammers in the castle, as it seemed. Harry, personally, hadn't found any. Neither did Ron or Hermione. Yet, Neville did. The odd thing was that, from the Gryffindors who were on the search, he was the only one who had absolutely no idea of what was going on.

The mood of the students and teachers had been gloomy and tense all week – a death had that effect on people. Some of the students had even gone home for their parents will, and so the tables were not as crowded as before.

Nico di Angelo wasn't sat on Gryffindor's table that evening. Neither on Slytherin's. He was with Emil, talking in whispers about something Harry could only imagine what could be. In moments like this, he wished he had Extendable Ears.

Then suddenly there was the sound of panting and of fast echoing footsteps – of a running someone or something. Harry grabbed his wand inside his pocket, as he watched the pre-existent tension get denser as the sound approached the room they were in. He looked at his friends, he looked at Dumbledore. They were all ready for a monster to come in.

But it wasn't a monster. It was a person. A girl.

"Is Nico di Angelo here?" her voice rose intense in the thick silence. He rose from his chair, muttering something Harry couldn't hear from distance.

"_What is this all about? Who are you?_" Umbridge too stood up, enraged. The girl hesitated, and then, with an unmistakable American accent, she said:

"I am sorry for entering like that, but… it is really urgent." she looked towards Nico, and then turned to Dumbledore. "My name is Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I've come here because… I have a prophecy for Nico."

:.

_Mm…What do you think of Amanda? I'm curious._

_Well, I'll try to update as fast as I can. Until then… review! :)_


	12. The Prophecy and Another Nightmare

**Chapter 11**

"_When the dead gods return  
And all the ancient frontiers burn  
The hero whose father is death  
Shall think of what's lost and choose his path._

_Over his head might fall the sky  
- the brave hero in battle must die._"

When the red-haired girl finished reciting the so called Prophecy, an ominous silence filled the Great Hall. No one dared to talk or breathe for a moment, and certainly no one would dare to believe, if they had any idea of what those words meant.

Harry observed everyone's expressions with interest; at the same time, he wondered who were those dead gods, the son of _death_ and the hero who was supposed to die. He considered that the last two would be the same person, and that they probably referred to Nico, as the prophecy was for him – even though 'son of death' didn't sound good or plausible. Yet, the probability of that prophecy of being true was the same as of _gods_ really exist – very, _very_ remote. As he could see in Divination classes, reading the future was nothing but a joke.

"I've already made my choice." Nico finally said, in a defying tone. He pressed his lips, visibly upset. Harry almost smiled – so he _was_ right. "You shouldn't have come, Rachel. Not because of a stupid prophecy."

If his last comment bothered her, she didn't show.

"I know how you feel about prophecies after all you've been through." she replied, calm yet severe. "But when a hero goes out on a quest, it is my duty to give him a glimpse of his future as guidance. It's a rule."

"Rules haven't been counting much these days." he observed, sarcastically. For someone who'd just heard he'd die soon in battle, he didn't look very preoccupied, thought Harry.

The girl glanced at him, and in her eyes there was a warning that only they could understand.

"Mrs. Dare…" Dumbledore finally spoke. Harry thought it was odd of Umbridge to stay silent, which made him think that the absurd rumors of a confidential conversation between Fudge and di Angelo weren't so absurd, after all. "I'm sure that now that you've already given your message, you could explain to us how you managed to enter Hogwarts-"

He probably would've added he preferred to have that conversation in private, but, before he could manifest his wishes, the girl started talking. And once she started, she was unstoppable.

She started telling them that she received the prophecy in July, one day after Nico left a certain summer camp for his quest; then she explained how she tried tracking him down – in vain, since he moved from one place to another very quickly. That was until she had a vision in her dreams of a castle, of centaurs, monsters and people with strange black robes carrying sticks (at that point, most people made a face at her). Rachel said she _knew_ she shouldn't be seeing it; that it was wrong, yet important. And as she realized it, she understood she should go to Nico and tell him his prophecy. So she found out where the castle was, who the people in black robes were, and as soon as possible took an airplane to England.

There, she paid someone to drive her to the castle. She never told the man what _exactly_ they were looking for, of course. She knew he would consider her a crazy girl if she did, and wouldn't probably take her to her destination. Yet, even so, when they got nearer the castle, the driver started to act weirdly. He said there was something very important he should do; that he'd forgotten something that was crucial, though he wouldn't tell her what that was. When Rachel offered him more money to keep driving her, he refused, screaming angrily at her and left her there, in the middle of nowhere.

Soon she found out what was wrong. As she approached an area with a dense gloomy forest, she understood what made that man run away: a huge transparent and obviously magical barrier rose from the floor, its thick structures made of countless layers of strong spells.

At that point of her narrative, Dumbledore asked how she could _see_ it – the protection was supposed to be invisible –, to which she just answered "I'm a seer, I see this kind of things.", and proceeded.

Before anyone could ask her how she'd got through the barrier, she explained how she passed about two hours wandering in the limits of the property until she found a huge rip in the insubstantial wall. Rachel said she went through it, and as she did it, she met the centaurs, who had been waiting for her. One of them took her on his back and rode her fast and silently through the dark forest.

"They dropped me in the borders of the forest that were nearer to the castle." she concluded. "And so I ran."

There were whispers, then, and Harry was aware that in the Slytherin table they wouldn't be gentle – it was clear by her narrative that she was no other than a Muggle; if she _was_ a witch, she'd certainly have found more practical ways to get to Hogwarts. Yet, he also found out that they weren't _all_ like that: some of the Slytherins seemed uncomfortable about the malice of their mates, keeping quiet and throwing sympathetic glances to the girl every now and then.

Dumbledore next spoke, thanking her for the information that would certainly be precious for strengthening their defenses. He offered her food and a room for spending her night, if that was her wish, but Rachel claimed that all she wanted – and needed – was to go back home.

Her transference to America by Floo was arranged, and she was already leaving when Nico made the question that had been intriguing for months anyone who had the slightest sensibility about the world they live in.

"Do you know why it didn't rain for all these months, Rachel?"

She smiled.

"Do you know when you are too nervous about something and get constipated? That's just it."

He raised an eyebrow; a thunder rumbled outside. Then the American boy grinned, and Harry wondered whether he was too stupid for not understanding her words or if both Rachel and Nico were just crazy.

:.

"Dou you know why Amanda's been so happy, lately?" Hermione asked.

The trio had just passed by the girl, and even though she didn't like Hermione, she didn't give her that hostile glare as always; instead, Amanda just smiled so joyfully that anyone could imagine she gave up of the antipathy against Hermione and they had become great friends. Which wasn't true.

"It's that backpack." explained Harry. "Her father gave her as a gift."

"So she met her father, after all." Ron seemed surprised.

"No. It just appeared on her bed, you know. No one knows how it got there." Harry shrugged. One of a thousand mysteries to solve.

They walked silently towards Transfiguration classes, each immersed in their own thoughts. Harry reflected about what Hermione had said about the 'constipated skies'. "_If_ the wizard called Zeus" she had said "controlled the sky… then his nervousness would affect it somehow. But why would he be nervous, anyway? Would it be because of that… key?" Those were questions that Harry couldn't answer.

Ron then had asked what made her so sure that those wizards that self-proclaimed as gods would be the same people with the same powers of the myths. She'd just answered "It's the most logical theory" and didn't speak of that matter anymore.

Yet, Harry thought, if _that_ was the _most logical_ theory…then they were screwed.

"Mione." Harry suddenly realized something. "If each god had a different power…" he didn't conclude the sentence, for in that very moment Professor McGonagall entered the classroom.

Harry waited for the practice to begin, and then turned to her again.

"I was thinking… if each god has a different power, then their children probably inherit their abilities…"

"Yes. And from their abilities you could tell who their father or mother might be. That's right."

"Then-"

"You want to know who Nico's father is, right?" she murmured more agitated than the usual. Harry just nodded. "Well, it appears he is the son of death, according to that girl… which would make him son of Hades, or of Thanatos, maybe. _That_ would make sense, considering that, as you said yourself, in that dream Amanda could hear screams…" he had told her the dream, after all. "… and there was no sky. Hades is the God of Death, his domains are in the Underworld and the people who were evil their whole lives are there tortured…" in her eyes there was worry, and her movements with the wand were nervous and not as accurate as usual. She was scared.

"You don't think it makes sense at all." Harry affirmed, feeling an unpleasant bitterness touch his lips as he spoke. He agreed with her.

By the other Hermione's side, Ron listened to the conversation quiet and nervous.

"No, I don't." she stopped practicing the spell to look at him. "But all the evidences point to that conclusion, and the more we find out, the more our theories are corroborated. We use our logic to discover all we need…" she interrupted herself, as if she had no more strength to discuss about that matter.

"…But what we find out is completely illogical." Harry completed the sentence and sighed. He felt the same way.

"Maybe the actual reason why he didn't want to tell us about himself was just that – we wouldn't understand anything anyway." mumbled Ron, more to himself than to his best friends.

Both Harry and Hermione looked at him, interested. _That_ made sense.

"I mean, there is the thing about ancient rules that he shouldn't break, also." the Weasley added – he wouldn't stop surprising them.

"When… did Nico say that?" asked Hermione carefully and slowly, wishing very hard that she wouldn't just be ignored; he was _so_ lost in thoughts that he might not even hear her.

"I asked him yesterday, during the search."

The search for the key was in its eighth day already. They had already found six hammers, until then – but none of them was "The One". At least, not according to Nico.

"What _exactly_ did you ask him?" it was Harry who asked.

Yet, before Ron could answer, Professor McGonagall approached, inspecting their improvement. She threw a discontented glare to the boys, and then said "Very good, Mrs. Granger. Five points for Gryffindor.", and left.

"Well, I, uh, don't really remember. I was angry, you know." he gritted his teeth. "Damn, Mione, how can you do that?"

She sighed.

"You have to swing your wand more smoothly." she showed him how.

"He said our side has already broken the rules." he cursed when the spell didn't work. "I wonder what _that_ was supposed to mean."

"It's actually very simple. _Ron_, more delicately. And _Harry_…" she sighed, looking tired, and they suddenly felt too clumsy. "…you are swinging it to the wrong direction. Anyway, as I was saying: if Nico wasn't supposed to be here because of his family… then neither Amanda nor Emil should have come. As they _did_… a rule has been broken. It must be that kind of stuff." she shrugged, uneasy about her own considerations.

"Do you think that Dumbledore knows any of it?" Harry asked, though he didn't really like mentioning the Headmaster these days.

"He certainly knows." answered Hermione, without explaining herself.

"Mione, if Nico is the son of the guy of death, who are the… super powerful parents of the other two?"

She stared at Ron for what seemed a long time.

"I don't know about Amanda. But Emil… I believe he is most likely to be the son of Demeter."

"Why?"

"The symbol over his head was a cornucopia – Demeter's symbol. Besides, he made those plants grow from nowhere… and being her son would explain why the plants haven't died yet. She is the… her power is related to agriculture."

They stayed silent for the rest of the lesson, and when the professor finally dismissed them, there was relief – the tension that had grown among them was uncomfortable and barely unbearable.

They were heading to the Great Hall for lunch when Harry was abruptly run down by the small caramel-haired girl with a huge smile on her face and a worn out backpack on her shoulder.

"Emil found it!" she said, obviously excited. "He found the right key!" her eyes were glistening with happiness, and she was about to tell them more about the exultant news when she saw something behind them that made her expression get darker and serious in one second. Amanda blushed, lowered her head as if apologizing and went straight to the Slytherin table.

The three friends looked back at the same time, only to find who they already expected – Nico di Angelo. He had a small triumphant (and even a bit scary) smile on his face, and in his mind many plans grew and modified – they could see it through his sharp gleaming eyes.

Harry suddenly felt angry. Nico wasn't _collaborating_ with them – he was _using_ them, manipulating them for his own purposes. Right then, it didn't really matter that those purposes were good, that his manipulation was necessary. All that mattered was that Harry felt outraged.

Yet, there was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit by his friends' side, enjoy a good meal and pretend everything was alright.

:.

The first thing he saw was a pair of electric blue eyes staring at him angrily. The next thing – dozens of arrowheads pointing to his chest. Harry smiled. They were in disadvantage.

He was sat on his wooden black throne, his wand with its brand new golden attachment lying on his right hand. Those stupid girls didn't know, but they were surrounded by his allies, who were just waiting for a signal of his to attack.

But then, something went wrong. The leader of the silver archers seemed to recognize his new handle – her eyes became wide open and fearful. Harry understood it a bit too late, and when the signal was made, she was already prepared for combat – and so were her companions.

A bloody and violent battle begun, and suddenly all that Harry could see around were silver flashes and black fur; and all he could hear were war cries, hoarse roars and the clashing metal…

"Harry, are you alright?" Ron's voice emerged from a haze in his mind. He looked worried – his expression was tense and nervous.

Harry touched his scar with the fingertips, and then massaged his forehead. He was no more in the dark room with the view of an eerie forest with pine trees that seemed to scratch the dense cloudy sky; nor was he sitting in a throne, holding an odd wand with a golden key attached. He was in the dark dorm, surrounded by his mates –he was safe.

"It was just a dream…" he managed to mutter weakly, though his heart was still pounding fast and his body still trembled.

He waited for them to go back to their beds; then he lay down and tried to again fall asleep.

Yet, he couldn't. Whenever he closed his eyes, those electric blue eyes met him, staring straight to his soul angrily.

:.

_This is it (for now). I hope you enjoyed the chapter!_

_The QAS: Yes, this story _is_ after The Lost Hero. Nico is fifteen, which would allow him to have classes with Harry, though once he was on service for his father _and_ managed to enter the castle, he could actually be anywhere he wanted…_

_I wish I could answer all of your questions, but I can't – not when they are about what's going to happen next…_

_Anyway, keep reading and reviewing, and I'll keep writing!_

_(And only because I haven't asked anymore for corrections doesn't mean I don't want them… please help me with my mistakes so that I can improve and hand you better stories.)_


	13. Bargaining For Peace

**Chapter 12**

It was a grayish lazy morning. The clouds were dense, heavy, and both the lake and the forest were black stains in the landscape. The only contrast came from the grass, so vividly green that it was even glaring. The corridors of the castle, in Harry's memories usually bustling and noisy, were almost silent – at least half of the students had left the school ever since the death caused by the attack of the wolves. In fact, it would have been a complete scandal, if the situation outside wasn't even worse. Strange creatures that the wizarding community had never seen or heard of were hiding in the dark alleys, just waiting to attack any reckless passerby; homes were invaded, entire families were killed. It was a tragedy.

Harry had just come out from the Charms lesson. Both his best friends walked by his side, arguing about any unimportant matter. It was a warm and lively discussion, but Harry didn't feel like participating. He was angry, and he was worried. He'd thought that, once the right hammer was found, Nico would take it, leave the castle and everyone would live happily ever after.

Yet, there had been almost a week since they had found the stupid 'key' and he still hadn't left. Harry gritted his teeth. He hated the situation, and he detested the person who was causing it – but what _really_ pissed him off was the fact that he _knew_ there was nothing he could do about it.

He abruptly interrupted his thoughts when he saw the woman.

She was a fat lady, with beady black eyes and pointy, coffee-stained teeth. No, she was not Umbridge. Even though there was also malice on her eyes, and even though her denim dress was as tight and starched as the ones the High Inquisitor wore, there was something different about her – it seemed she was wearing a disguise.

Harry felt his blood freeze in his veins and his body suddenly stop, numb, when she passed by him and he saw her vicious smile and her forked tongue.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione looked at him as if he was insane – her eyes were worried and confused.

He didn't speak – he didn't even _hear_ her. Instead, he just followed the woman. The blood that had frozen was now boiling, and a feverish need to follow her took over his body and mind. She had a vicious smile. She had a forked tongue. She was a _monster_.

"Potter!"

Harry cursed Nico when he heard his voice. Why did he have to call him in such a crucial moment?

He saw the supposed son of death walk towards him with determination, and then stop halfway with the eyes gleaming dangerously and the hands closed in fists. Harry turned to see the woman again. She'd stopped walking; her eyes were fixed in Nico, and her smile had become even crueler. A low yet intense hiss came from her lips, and her pupils suddenly became deep slits.

"Who are you?" Nico asked, narrowing his eyes.

The woman laughed, and for Harry's surprise, her voice wasn't as annoying as the empousa's; on the contrary, it was beautifully soft and silky.

"Don't you know, son of Hades?" The swish of a rattle, very subtle and menacing, filled the air. Slowly, the monster approached Nico, and as she moved, her legs morphed into a long flexible and scaly tail. Her face also changed. Before fat and ugly, it became beautiful – with long eyelashes, pulpy red lips, soft skin, and harmonic features. The only things that ruined her beauty were those horrible eyes, the ugly tongue and the snake tail. "I am the grieving mother of those who you murdered so coldly, stupid hero." Nico paled when she said that. "Oh, how I wish I could kill you right now to avenge that awful insult! Taking away my dear _babies_ from me, that's not right…" Her silky voice was full of sorrow and hatred. "But my mission today is another. My vengeance will have to wait."

"Are you… _Echidna_?" Nico finally spoke, with an expression that showed his deep wish of being wrong.

"Yes, yes! I am the terrible Echidna, the Mother of Monsters! Did you like my new children? They're so gorgeous… Just like their father. But what am I saying? Of course you didn't like them. You _killed_ my babies, after all." Her delighted tone became resentful and bitter. Then she looked at Nico's expression, and laughed again. "Oh, dear, you didn't really think I wouldn't have children anymore, did you?"

"But the agreement…" he managed to speak. His voice was strong, but his eyes were completely confused.

"Ha! The stupid agreement! Agreements don't last forever, darling. Especially when they are about controlling instincts. _My_ instincts. Can you _imagine_ what it feels to spend _two thousand years_ without satisfying my appetites even _once_? No, of course not," she hissed. Her face was just a few inches from his and her body moved smoothly in waves. There was rage in her eyes – but then, in a sudden, it got replaced by something else. She tenderly laid her right hand on his face, and held his wrist when he tried getting away from her. Her voice became soft and deep, irresistible, and even from distance Harry could feel her body pulsing – with desire. "Well, young hero. I must say that I am very angry at you… but there's a way for you to make up for your terrible insult…" She got even nearer, whispering by his ear. The hand that was on his face came down by his neck and rested on his chest. The rattle of her tail intensified, and suddenly the air around them was condensed with lust.

Harry felt his heart squeeze, his breath fail and a deep wish to be on Nico's place take over his body and mind. His vision got blurred, as if a strange haze had assaulted his eyes – the only distinct image was the gorgeous woman.

That was why he felt the anger go through all of his body when Nico, in a fast movement, took his black penknife from his pocket, opened it and charged. That was why Harry got his wand, and with frustration pointed it towards Nico before he could kill the 'poor' Echidna. That was why Nico hesitated, surprised by Harry's violent reaction – that was the same reaction of every boy (and of one or two girls) that had been watching the scene in the corridor.

In short, that was why the monster was able to escape.

"Nico, are you alright?" Amanda appeared out of nowhere, with a worried expression on her face.

Echidna's laughter could still be heard echoing malevolently as she quickly left. Then her voice disappeared, and all that was left of her presence was a subtle rattling, as smooth as a cool breeze.

"She was here for reconnaissance," Nico muttered, with a dark expression on his face. Then he turned to Harry. "Be prepared. They are coming."

:.

Eleanor Branstone had a big problem. She was in love. But the subject of her attention was not _anyone_. He was Owen Caldwell, the most handsome and disputed Hufflepuff student – also one of her best friends.

Someone might say that it was great, that being close to him was halfway to attracting him… but the problem was that she _knew_ that he saw her just as a friend, maybe even as a little sister, though she was three months older than him.

She sighed. Why did life have to be so complicated?

She walked alone in the castle, observing dreamily the beautiful landscape that could be seen through the windows, imagining how her life would be if she was with him. Much better, certainly. But then she remembered his deep sadness, the alienation to which he imposed himself when his little brother died. She remembered the attack of those terrible wolves, even though she wasn't there to watch it. She'd already gone to the common room back then, to write a letter for her parents. If it hadn't happened… maybe her goal would have already been achieved?

There was no way to know.

She looked again to the forest, to the gloomy sky. Black, gray, white. But then another color joined – red. First, it was a small dot in the horizon, flickering apparently harmlessly. Eleanor stopped walking to stare at it, feeling very curious. Yet it soon grew, and the tiny stain on the landscape took its form, growing as it consumed the air. In a fraction of second, her doubts vanished as she understood it was fire. She gaped in horror and disbelief when she saw the red flames expand wildly, becoming a thick line in the limits of the forest.

And when it kept growing, rising, and swallowed the sky, she screamed.

:.

When the first girl screamed, Harry knew that it had begun.

Surprisingly, there was no chaos. He imagined that Nico had probably warned the Headmaster of what was to happen, as he did to Harry, because as soon as the first signs took over the horizon the professors gathered everyone and led them towards a secret hideout – where they would be safe.

Of course he didn't go with them, and neither did his two best friends. Instead, they sneaked out of the castle, walking through the silent corridors with the Invisibility Cloak on. Harry felt glad that Ron and Hermione were with him then – there was an ominous taste in the air, and the last words of prophecy of the red haired girl echoed in his ears along with their footsteps. "_The brave hero in battle must die_." He felt chills come down from his spine. Who would the brave hero be? Nico? Or maybe one of his friends…

When they got to the outside, the first thing that surprised them was the wind – it was strong and violent, howling sinisterly as the clouds above them got darker and more menacing, as if anticipating a storm. Thunders roared above their heads, and snarls could be heard coming from the forest.

Harry took off the cloak, observing his surrounding with curiosity. The first person he noticed was the tall man. He walked in firm steps, his expression severe and his eyes distrustful. His clothes were made of leather, and they seemed to be manufactured many centuries ago, back in the Vikings era. His long matted hair was red, and his irises were of an electric blue.

Yet, what would first catch anyone's attention were his high – and his muscles. Except for Hagrid (and consequently for Madame Maxime), Harry had never seen such a tall person in his whole life. It was even scary.

By the Viking's right side, there was another man. His hair was black and his eyes seemed tricky; he wasn't a handsome guy, but he was better dressed than the other man – he wore a black suit that made him look elegant. He looked impatient, lighting and putting out fire repetitively as he snapped his fingers.

On the tall man's other side, there was a beautiful woman that Harry recognized in an instant – he'd seen her on his dream. He felt impressed about her beauty – her were icy blue, her hair of a pale gold and her skin of a soft snow. She wore a dress that seemed to be made of thousands of crystallized water droplets, and Harry suddenly wondered if it wouldn't be hard to fight with it.

Behind them, a retinue of Death Eaters was waiting, anxiously, and behind _them_, the weirdest army was standing, near the borders of the forest. Half of it was composed by human beings – yet, their clothes looked as old as their leader's; they were also wearing leather, but to that was added a pelage that Harry knew that wouldn't smell very good. The other half was of monsters – he recognized quite quickly some empousai and some wolves as the ones that attacked them before. But the rest…he'd never seen anything like them in his whole life.

There were bulls with long rotating horns and boar's tusks, two-headed giant snakes, gigantic white worms, feathery-winged serpents, women with tails of serpent instead of legs; there were creatures with spider legs and human torso, there were snakes with scaly humanoid arms and legs… It seemed a horror show.

The Viking and his two companions suddenly stopped walking. Facing them, about fifty feet away, Harry saw Nico di Angelo sided by Amanda and Emil. She had her backpack on her shoulder, and a bronze dagger was pending from her belt. Emil also had a weapon – an also bronze scythe with a leather handle. Behind the three half-bloods stood Dumbledore, Hagrid and Snape - and just them. Their side was in frank disadvantage.

Harry took his wand and waited for someone to make the first move. He felt his legs go numb and his heart get weak – he was scared. What would they do against all those... things? He glanced at Ron and Hermione, and realized they felt the same.

"I am Thor…" The Viking broke the silence between them. Harry would've laughed, if the man wasn't so intimidating. "…God of the Thunders, destroyer of evil. I come here in a mission of peace with my companions Loki-" he looked to the man on his right with some displeasure, "-and Skadi." He glanced then to the woman on his left. Harry noticed that he had the same strong accent of the woman, and that his wish for peace was true.

Thor silenced, expecting Nico to pronounce – as if they had a ritual to perform before they got to the main issue.

"I am Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, God of Death. I come today…" Nico said, in a formal tone that didn't really suit him. Harry felt a feeling of uneasiness take over him when he realized they were proclaiming to _someone_. "…as a messenger of the Gods."

There was silence again. The thunders rumbled higher, the wind blew faster, more violently. Harry looked at the monsters – they certainly didn't want peace. And neither did the man called Loki, as it seemed.

Harry expected Thor to answer with more useless litany, and so he felt surprised to find that he abandoned his formality when he replied.

"Listen, kid. All we want now is my hammer. We don't want war against your gods, we don't want to have to fight you." He paused. "There is an object inside this castle. A powerful object that could help us finding Mjolnir." Harry assumed Mjolnir was the hammer. "It is the eye that sees all and tells nothing but the truth. We want it. We will have it." He looked at Nico with a warning on his eyes. "You see, we're not asking for your help – we are asking for you to get out of the way and let us look for it. That's all."

Harry would think it was hilarious if he wasn't scared – they didn't want a battle to happen, they just had brought an army with them for… not feeling too lonely, perhaps? Ha.

Nico analyzed the god for some moments, his face unreadable.

"Sir, you can't have the Eye of Thea," he finally said, calmly. Harry felt his heart sink to the bottom of his soul – there would be war, after all.

The monsters hissed with excitement, the eyes glittering, and Loki smiled. Yet, Thor shook his head, with pity in his eyes, and a sad expression took over the human half of the army. Only Skadi was still apparently completely neutral.

"But please, listen to what I have to say," Nico added, and Thor nodded in agreement. "Gaia is waking up, and the Giants, her children, are trying to take down the Olympian gods. If that wasn't enough, Uranus, Gaia's husband, the sky itself, wants to reunite with her after all these millennia. For that, he wants chaos, because both of them were born from chaos, and once they are together again, chaos once again will reign. Or better… there will be _only_ chaos." He cleared his throat, apparently confident once he'd gained the full attention of the three standing before him. "That's why you were brought back – to fight the gods and create chaos. Please, don't let it happen. The gods want the peace as much as you do. So let's have peace."

He silenced, staring firmly at those intimidating blue eyes. At the same time, he extended his hand towards Amanda, and she quickly opened her backpack, taking a something wrapped in a cloth and handing him.

Thor looked at both of them with distrust and a strong curiosity. And his face turned pale when he saw what was behind the cloth – his own hammer. Yet, before he could say anything, Nico kneeled to him, holding firmly the artifact of rough stone and wood with a leather strap on his hands.

"In the name of the Gods, I offer you, Thor, your hammer in exchange for peace." His eyes glittered intense and piercing. "But you'll have to swear by the River Styx," he added, harshly.

The monsters snarled angrily. Both Loki and Skadi exchanged preoccupied glances. And Thor smiled.

"Then we shall have peace. But I will swear by the holy Yggdrasil instead." He cleared his throat, observing with some admiration the kid before him. Then, he pronounced: "If the fearsome Mjolnir is handed to me by the Greeks' messenger, I swear upon Yggdrasil that I will never fight against those unless to protect myself and my family."

Nico rose, and smiled. He'd managed to bring peace.

:.

_So... what do you think? I hope you didn't find it _too_ crazy :P_

_As this fic is about to end, I wanted to thank everyone for reading it... I know I still have too much to improve, but I'm glad that you still liked it!_

_ I also wanted to thank my beta reader val'tanelle for her help. This chapter would've been much worse without her assistance... :)_


	14. Strugling to Survive

**Chapter 13**

And then, when Harry thought everything would be just fine, it went all wrong.

A strong and fearsome shriek rose from the crowd of monsters – it took Harry half a second to realize it was a battle cry. The chaos exploded and all they could hear or see was the sound of metal clashing and ripping, the hallucinated screams and the blurry forms of giant aberrations.

Harry might've been scared before – in fact, he'd felt horrified by the idea of fighting the army of abominations in front of him. And yet, when the time came, that fear simply vanished. His vision became stained in red, his body became feverish and the hand with the wand obeyed to _one_ simple instinct: to struggle, to war. To kill them all.

He might not have known consciously, but he was a natural warrior.

It took a quarter of another second for him to instinctively realize what the monsters' plan B was. Their attacks were mostly aiming both Thor and Nico. The wizard didn't stop to think of the reason for it though; it was not the right moment. Instead, he waved his wand frantically, shooting offensive spells, defensive spells, all without a thought. He slashed, he cut; he shot red, and then blue; and then it was colorless, and then it was dark green. He made the nature work for him as well, by throwing a rock towards a monster, by pushing other ones to the lake, where he was sure the mermaids, if not the Giant Squid, would give them a proper end.

He felt the adrenaline work on him, more powerful than any encouragement potion. The sweat soon covered his skin, but he didn't notice. He cried with the fury of battle, but he was absolutely not aware of that. He was blind, he was deaf - and yet he could see all and all he saw was not only with his eyes, but with his heart as well; he could hear all not only with his ears, but also with his skin, his bones, his very own blood.

A perverse satisfaction covered him as he slew his enemies, and later he would be ashamed, even terrified about it – but not now. Now his wand was as mortal as the blades of the three demigods, as destructive as Thor's fists. Around him, the battle got fiercer and fiercer, but he could barely understand it. He _saw_ the human warriors of Thor fighting by their side, but he didn't really think of that. He saw Ron and Mione struggling for their lives with the same fearless expression of his own. He saw Dumbledore and Snape, both alone fighting against the Death Eaters when everyone else was focused on the monsters. He saw Hagrid kicking and howling, growling and punching.

He saw Nico fighting like a demon with blood on the side of his head, holding the hammer the best he could as he tried to reach the Thunder God. He did see when he raised his black blade and summoned an army of the dead – but he didn't fear it; he just _couldn't_ be distracted by such a small and useless feeling as this; in his mind, things were black and white, no shades of gray allowed. He didn't divide the creatures and people around him in good or evil, but in "fighting by my side" and "fighting against me", for that was all he needed.

He saw Amanda and Emil, one at each side of Nico, trying to guard him at the same time they tried to stay alive.

He saw Thor's rage, and he would even be scared of it if the fire of battle hadn't possessed him completely.

He even saw that the two other gods – Skadi and Loki – had simply vanished from there.

He saw everything… And he even _understood_ everything – but not consciously. For the consciousness he had, that one that had been built day by day, year by year, _century by century_ by the human kind… it was simply overwhelmed by the most primary instinct of all: the instinct of surviving.

:.

From the beginning they knew it would probably be a suicide battle. Even with Thor's warriors by their side they were outnumbered. But still they fought, and still they didn't surrender, not even when their bodies started to complain of fatigue, not even when their voices were gone from screaming.

And that is bravery – the true bravery. To fight when you know you will certainly lose, to struggle even though the fear screams inside, just because it is the right thing to do. For some people, it might be considered stupidity, but not for them.

And apparently, not for the gods either. Oh no. That kind of stupidity – that sort of _nobility_ – is what they enjoy the most in the mortals… Perhaps because there is something in stake they don't know, and therefore they can't possibly fear – mortality.

And that is why they interfered, pulling strings so that their heroes would live longer… at least, just a little longer, so that they might have the slightest chance of surviving.

That was why, when all hope was lost, a new war cry sounded coming from the dark forest; that was the reason reinforcement appeared, galloping in rage and glory.

That was why the centaurs interfered, eager to battle.

:.

Harry couldn't say how much time they had spent fighting out there in the fields. It could've been ten minutes, maybe thirteen, or even one whole hour. It could _actually_ have been two, three, _five_ hours. All he knew was that it felt like an eternity. And that it seemed it would never be over.

At some point, he even stopped to wonder if the monsters they were fighting were immortal, or perhaps infinite. No matter how many he slashed, how many he cursed, there was always another one to fill the deceased's spot.

In the end, he was getting tired.

But, no, it wasn't only him. _Everyone _seemed to be about to collapse. Until then, they had all been strong enough to stay alive. Yet it was only a matter of time until the fatigue finally took over one of them… Until one of them got killed.

And then what? What kind of hope would be left out of them? How long until they couldn't stand anymore and got slayed, one by one?

The way things were, there wouldn't be much time.

Harry felt the despair start to take over him as his hopes once again faded away. He had felt that before the centaurs had appeared, but even _they_ weren't enough to make their forces equal to their enemies'. The hope they'd brought to his heart felt now like a lie.

If only Nico was able to hand Thor the hammer… But every second they seemed to be more and more distant of one another.

It could've been impression, Harry knew. It could've been a deceit from his exhausted and hopeless mind… But there was too little hope left for him to be able of feeling otherwise. And who could blame him? His body ached at every move, the sweat made him go almost blind. The fatigue made him dizzy, his arms and legs seemed to weight a hundred pounds each.

Was he going to die there?

Some part of him told him _yes, he would._

And what for? He wasn't really sure he knew – or maybe he'd just forgotten. But… was it worth dying for something he could forget so easily?

Was it?

And if it wasn't, why did he _insist_ of keep fighting?

Because he was a fool…? Or maybe he just didn't have a choice? Not anymore…

It was with these thoughts in mind that Harry was fighting when everything changed.

:.

It started with a slight trembling of the ground. Few of those who were fighting actually noticed it – it was so smooth and the battle was so heated it got hard to feel what seemed to be a minor earthquake.

Only a few more noticed the second trembling – a stronger one -, about one minute later. And still, who had strength to warn about it? No one. The battle seemed a more immediate source of danger then.

It was the third trepidation followed by a shout from distance that caught both men and monsters' attention. That and the new mountain in the horizon.

Suddenly the deafening noises of the fight got substituted by a silence that tasted and smelled of fear. And it was not a common fear – not the usual fear of pain, of loss, of death. No. It was much deeper, much more primeval. It was dangerous. It was insane. It resurrected the darkest and forgotten parts of one's soul, making a horror that was too old to recognize resurge, making any thought of struggle and life and death simply disappear as if it never existed. That kind of horror – yes, _horror_ - made only one sort of thought (that was much more of an instinct than a thought) possible:

_Flee._

_Flee._

_Flee while you can._

_Flee while it's still not impossible._

But no one got away. No monster, no human being. And yet, for the time being the battle had been paused while a tense expectation grew among them all.

"O no" Thor's voice rose in silence, deep and strong "So one of_ those _has awoken…"

"What do you mean?" Amanda's eyes got wider.

He didn't answer. His eyes were focused on the borders of the forest. At first, Harry couldn't understand what had caught his attention, but after a while he too saw what the god had seen: a shadow of what could be a person flickering in the Forbidden Forest.

"Who's there?" Harry muttered more to himself than to anyone else.

Only when the shadow got to the borders of the forest Harry finally could see that it wasn't alone – other two people were following. They were running towards them, not even stopping when they saw the monsters and the ancient warriors. Instead, the one in the front shouted "Run! All of you – _run_!" and at that moment Harry realized he'd heard that voice before.

In his dreams.

"Percy! What are you doing here?!" Nico's voice rose in surprise and disbelief.

The boy with black hair and sea-green eyes suddenly stopped, looking quite astonished.

"Nico?"

By his side, a girl with the eyes of storm and a guy with hooves instead of feet panted. Harry wondered how long had they been running. It had been a while since he'd seen them escaping in his dream…

"What is going on here?" the blonde asked, retaining her eyes on Thor. "And who is _that_ one?"

And then he remembered…

"…_It seems we have some invaders here…"_

"Annabeth, we don't have time for this right now." Nico's voice was surprisingly soft.

The surroundings grew colder, as if a stream of cold air came from the woods. And that new mountain on the horizon… there was something wrong about it…

"…_made his best not to gasp in surprise and swallow the water he got suddenly surrounded by when he opened his eyes…"_

It was as if it was growing larger on its every dimension, staining the sky with new shades of grey, blue and white. It would've been even fascinating if there wasn't something in the core that would say that it was wrong, completely and terribly _wrong_.

"…_a deep loud roar came from just behind him…"_

"YOU!" The boy with the hooves pointed out to one of the Death Eaters – one with a cloak hiding his face. "You tri-i-ied to KILL u-us!" he bleated. Harry looked at that direction, his confusing memories making his head ache.

"… _the mountain is moving… the mountain is waking up from its rest…"_

Yes. That was it. The mountain had woken up from its rest. From what should've been its eternal rest. And yet…

The ground shook once again, and this time he had to balance to stay standing. He was still observing the man with the cloak, and in that exact moment he saw something that made his heart freeze – the wand on his hand… its golden handle, shaped as a key…

Voldemort.

Voldemort was there.

But before he could think of what that might mean, or even of what to do, a thunder roared from high above. Harry soon noticed it didn't come _exactly _from the sky. When he glanced towards the moving mountain, his heart suddenly sank. A huge black hole had appeared near its top, in what seemed to be a mouth.

No. In what _was _a mouth... because what he'd thought that'd been a thunder was actually a scream of that ancient form of life.

An angered, vengeful scream.

The sound of trees crashing got to his ears and Harry realized there wouldn't be much time left before the mountain got to where they were. A sense of urge fulfilled him – if they had to do something, it had to be before the mountain got to where they were. He looked at Nico, intending to tell him to hurry towards Thor – but there was not necessary; the halfblood had already understood it was his leave.

The problem was that so did everyone else.

:.

First, there was the horrified silence, the shared fear of humans and beasts, the living and the dead, of that brute force of nature that should've never been awaken. It was as if everyone had been suspended in the air, breathless and hopeless. It was as if they'd all been stripped from all that made them creatures with their own will, their own minds.

But it was only for a single moment, and when it was all gone all that was left was chaos.

The confusion of fur, clashing metal, scales, spells, screams and pain was once again unleashed. Harry had no idea he could go from that absolute inertia to a rampant fight in such a short time. But he did, and he was vaguely conscious that it was what saved Thor's life back then.

For when the monsters attacked, they were all aiming for him.

He saw a new wave of pure fury come from Nico di Angelo, as he ran towards the god slashing and stabbing monsters, and he would even feel afraid of that fierce impulse of destruction if he wasn't only reflexes by then.

Near Nico, Emil used his scythe to protect his back as he ran; and nearer Thor Harry could see Amanda, the small, young Amanda, swinging gracefully like an acrobat as she fought to protect something she could barely understand.

He observed the ancient warriors, his best friends, the principal and a professor he hated fight. He observed as Hagrid struggled, and he watched as the three kids who'd just appeared battle as if there was no tomorrow.

He could see all that as he gave the best of himself and he could almost feel a bit of hope coming from the bottom of his soul. Not much, but it was already enough. Because except for the warriors of Thor, no one had died. _No one_. Despite being outnumbered, despite being in disadvantage they had survived so far.

And Nico was getting closer and closer to Thor. Closer and closer to handing his hammer – and seal peace. And that was what was important… the most important thing of all. Harry didn't know how he figured that, but he knew that it was true. He could feel it. And that was just enough for him.

And then, as unbelievable as it may be, it all happened at the same time.

With a shaking that made half of the people fall to the ground, the right foot of the mountain landed just in the middle of the battle. A furious cry resonated, piercing deep inside Harry's body, through his bones and straight inside his head. He felt the pain crush him from the inside, and for a moment he felt weak and defenseless.

That was the moment when reinforcement arrived – the Order of the Phoenix, casting spells and charms in every Death Eater and monster they could see.

That was the exact moment when silver arrows came whizzing over their heads towards the monsters.

That was also the moment when Voldemort's cloak fell off, making possible for everyone to see his reptilian face.

That was the moment when Nico was just about to reach Thor.

That was the moment when Thor got defenseless – his bare back was a free _beautiful_ target.

That was the moment when an empousa decided to take an advantage of that and charged, sword in her hand, smile on her face.

And it was at _that_ moment that Amanda, with a war cry that made Harry's heart shrink, jumped over the empousa, fighting like an animal, kicking, punching, biting, slashing and stabbing.

But she was too young, and even though her will was strong, she was too careless and unprepared. And even before Harry could see it happen, even before he could _understand_ what happened, it was already gone. _She _was gone.

For it was at that exact moment that she died.

Harry felt some kind of void grow inside of him. It was wrong. It was all just too _wrong. _Why was there so much blood coming from such a small body?

He didn't know.

Was it even fair for such a _young_ girl to have such a horrible death?

No it wasn't. It _wasn't_.

But then why? _Why_?!

He saw her body fall off to the ground, dropped carelessly as if it was a potatoes sack. He saw her eyes staring at him, with a calm she'd never had in life. Vitreous dead eyes. _Oh god_…

And all that blood…

"-arry… Harry!" he heard his name being called by distance, but when he woke up from his astonishment, it was already too late. He looked at Hermione, divided between warning him and attacking the pale man with insane eyes and reptilian features. The pale man with a wand pointing towards Harry and a triumphal smile on his face.

Then something hit him abruptly by the side of his body and he fell. Next thing he knew, he couldn't see a thing. There was a strong green flash of light, but it looked ridiculous compared to the glaring radiance that came next, followed by the most stunning and deafening rumble he had ever heard – it was as if it pierced inside his head, compressing his eyeballs from inside out the skull, making every bone and every organ vibrate.

And yet, Harry was glad – because that would mean Thor finally had his hammer back.

He stayed blind and hopelessly unable of moving for a good time. His senses were all messed up from the lighting struck by the Norse God, but as soon as he started recovering them, he noticed that there was very little agitation compared to before. Still, it wasn't all finished.

The first thing he noticed was the soft touch of snow on his skin. Then, he realized it was hard moving not only because of the shock for what his body had been through, but because there was something quite _heavy_ over his body.

He tried blindly to get rid of it as he heard Nico cursing someone in an angry tone – he couldn't understand it though; his messed up senses made it sound like Greek. Of course, considering who was cursing, it _could_ have been Greek, but Harry didn't think about it for even a moment.

He heard the sound of something cracking and the furious scream that followed – for some reason, Harry felt unbelievably good about it. Then his vision started to slowly come back, as if he had been drowned in deep darkness and now he got, if not to the surface, to somewhere near.

"Leave now, before I lose my patience and decide to end your miserable life." A grave and deep voice, that Harry recognized as Thor's rose. "Don't forget that my mercy is only to avoid interfering more than I should. But do not forget: if we cross paths again, I will reconsider interfering. Oh I will – _with pleasure_."

Some black spots still stained Harry's vision and his surroundings were still a little blurry. He rubbed his eyes and it was at that moment that he realized he'd lost his glasses. He groped around for a while and felt relieved when he found that frame was still intact – which was silly, because he could certainly fix it in no time with a spell.

_Everything turned out to be just fine, it seems_, he thought. He felt a grip in his heart and a shiver go through his body when he remembered Amanda's vitreous eyes staring at him and mended: _Well, _almost_ everyting._

He had just put his glasses on when he heard two familiar voices approaching.

"Oh, I'm _so_ _sorry_ Harry!" Hermione moaned, with tears pouring on her face.

"Are you alright, Harry?" that was Ron's choked voice.

He turned to them, confused. Then a terrible thought crossed his mind. He had been pushed away, hadn't he? Harry looked at the heavy _thing _that had been over his body. His eyes got open wide; his whole body trembled.

"_NO!_" he screamed, and it was a tortured, awful, desperate scream.

There by his side laid Sirius. And he was _dead_.

:.

_Hi!_

_First off I wanted to apologize for all the time I had to take so that I would keep on writing. But really, you can't possibly imagine how my life was before vacations. _

_In fact, I must be honest: I'd already given up finishing this story. Why? Oh well, there are many factors involving, but it was mostly because the lack of time and of inspiration._

_And yet, here I am, with a brand new chapter for you! :)_

_Sooooo… I hope, in the first place, that I haven't rusted in writing in English (if the pace of the story got lost somewhere, I'm really _really_ sorry. I swear I tried to make it flow but…)._

_Despite that I also hope you have enjoyed reading this chapter – and of course all the rest of the story ;)_

_It's been a pleasure to be sharing with you the world that lives inside my head. Even though it didn't come out as well as it could have, I believe there was enough to be worth sharing – don't you?_

_Probably the next chapter will take a little long to be written, but I'll try to update as soon as I can. I promise!_


	15. The Last Conference

**Chapter 14**

As ironic as it may be, the day of the funeral service was a beautiful day – probably the most beautiful ever since everything started. The sky was clear, with only a few sparse clouds that looked like cotton candy as decoration. The sun was warm and its golden light touched Harry's skin softly, as if telling him everything was going to be alright from now on. The birds sung and the breeze was gentle – and Harry hated it all. It _wasn't_ going to be alright, he knew it. He'd lost his only family once again, as if Destiny found it funny to give him hope only to take it away from him, the most painful way possible. Was it even _fair_? He looked around him, to the people with sorrow in their faces and suddenly he felt angry. Why were they so upset? Why were they crying? They weren't the ones who lost everything – _twice._ They didn't feel the pain, they didn't _understand. _How could they?

Harry felt the tears run through his cheeks for the first time ever since Sirius had died and that was a relief. He hadn't cried when he saw his dead body laid beside him, but not because he didn't want to. He just couldn't. All that was left for him was a deep void, suffocating and intense, and in the next days he was afraid he'd lost all his emotions, for he didn't respond to anything. He _couldn't_. People tapped his back and said they were _so sorry_, people hugged him and told him he would be alright, and he just couldn't say anything. Perhaps there was nothing to say, anyway – but what he feared was that his heart had died, and that there was nothing anyone could do about it.

But then he cried as the sunlight touched his skin, he cried as Nico's voice rose in the silence, saying things he didn't understand, and the wet tears washed his soul and filled his heart once again.

Hermione grabbed his hand and Ron touched his shoulder, as if to say they were there for him, and Harry couldn't help but cry a little longer. He lowered his head, thanking God – or the gods, for he knew nothing anymore – for having his friends, and preparing himself for another turn, for Voldemort was still alive and well, which meant there would be more casualties, more pain, and he had to be strong for it when the time came.

Nico's voice was grave and clear and his words were deep and meaningful, though most people wouldn't understand what he was saying - his prayers were in Ancient Greek, for his words, which asked for kindness and mercy for the dead, were meant to the gods, not to the mortals.

The funeral was crowded – there were the students and the professors, there were the three kids who had come running from the giant mountain, there were girls in silver camouflage suits who called themselves "Hunters of Artemis" and came in the most inappropriate moment.

"Good timing," had said Nico at the time, half angry and half intrigued. They had arrived in the middle of the night, bows in hand and with the expression of people who were ready for a good fight. By then, the fields in which the battle had occurred were almost clean, the monster's ashes washed away by the rain together with the blood, the corpses of the allies removed and taken care of appropriately.

Now they were all with their heads lowered, respectful expressions in their faces and maintaining a safe distance from any boys.

Beside Nico, stood Dumbledore, Thor and Emil and, on the borders of the Forbidden Forest, the centaurs observed everything with a distant expression on their faces.

In the center of the crowd, two pyres richly adorned with flowers and leaves held Sirius and Amanda. As far as Harry understood, the other soldiers who answered to Thor were already dead in the first place, so they just got dismissed from their duties and that was enough for their rest.

The other two, however, needed a proper service. Over their eyes, golden Drachmas had been disposed. There was oil covering their skin and beautiful handmade shrouds covered their bodies.

Nico finished his speech and the silence that followed was dense and gloomy. He glanced at Emil, who lit the torch and stepped forward. There was hesitation in his movements and suffering in his eyes.

The fire that came from the pyres was spread quickly and was bright and golden, its flames licking the timber in beautiful swirls as it ascended to heaven. Wasn't it so sad, it would have turned out to be a lovely spectacle. Emil turned back to his place and put away the fire from the torch. His eyes were fixed in Amanda's pyre, the sorrow in them almost unbearable to look at. He'd been lonely for most of his life – he was a difficult person to deal with, and he knew it. And yet that girl had broken all his barriers as if they were nothing. They had become good friends in that short period of time, in a way he'd never experienced before, and now it had been take away from him.

"Goodbye," said he, under his breath, his eyes burning with the effort for not crying. "And I'm sorry."

And then, the strangest thing happened. The light from the pyres got brighter, almost glaring and, for an instant, it looked like it would get away from the fire and where the flames should be there would be only heat left. A chilly wind howled around them, as if one thousand ghosts had decided to haunt the funeral – but they didn't scream or cry or mourn; they sung, and their song was delicate and kind and soft and _extremely_ sad, all at the same time.

The flames suddenly became incorporeal, moving swiftly around them, as if dancing – not to celebrate, nor to mourn. They were there to lead, Harry suddenly knew, as if the knowledge had always been there in the back of his mind, and they could only be seen because they wanted to.

And then, when Harry thought that it couldn't get any weirder, a man simply appeared out of the thin air, and he glimmered and glinted. His face was beautiful, thought Harry, without really thinking, it was beautiful in an elfish kind of way, but it was also sad – the saddest expression he'd ever seen and that he would ever see in his life – and it was wise and young and old, and the oddest thing was that it actually made sense. The man had winged shoes, Harry saw, and his feet didn't touch the ground. In his hand there was a staff and two golden snakes were tangled together in it.

He was a god, Harry suddenly realized, and he couldn't stop himself from being amazed by his presence.

For a few moments, it seemed as if time had stopped. No one could move, or breathe, and the air was still and the birds had stopped singing. The man moved to one pyre and extended his hand toward it, as if the fire didn't bother him at all. When he got it out, he held a hand, translucent and silvery. He helped Sirius' spirit getting up and floating beside him, and then he moved to the other pyre, but the other ghost was already up and staring at him, the blue eyes turned pale and the once caramel hair moving around her head as if there was no gravity to keep it down.

"_Dad?" _said Amanda. Her voice faltered softly, as if carried by the wind.

"Yes, dear?" answered the god, sweetly.

"_Are you proud of me?"_

The god extended his hand to his deceased daughter, a sad smile on his face.

"I'm _very _proud of you, sweetie."

"_Then I'm glad." _She smiled back, and she _looked _glad.

Then she took her father's hand and everything faded away. It all simply vanished – the god, the ghosts, the swift lights and the song – and all that was left was the sad reality. For some moments, Harry doubted what he'd seen, as if he'd just gotten out of a dream, but everyone around him had the same amazedly confused expression on their faces, and so he guessed everyone saw the same things.

Besides, he knew enough about dreams not to doubt their reality.

They all left the funeral service without saying a word, feeling that talking about what had happened would only maculate their memories. For the first time in the last days Harry felt in peace about Sirius' death. The pain was still there, that was for sure, but after what he'd seen a certainty that his godfather would be alright took over him and he felt glad. Sirius would be fine, which was more than he could say about himself.

And right then that was all that mattered.

:.

His tea was getting cold, but he didn't care. He hadn't come for tea, after all. He'd come for answers. It seemed, however, that answers were the last thing he would have that day.

In the dimly lit room, the strangest set of people were grouped together, drinking the tea and eating the cookies as if that was the only thing they had come for, which Harry found annoying. Still, no one ventured small talks, for they also knew that it would have been trespassing a limit.

Seeing himself with nothing to do but wait, Harry observed the people around him, more or less like a kid observes animals in the zoo, with a lot of interest but no method or objective.

First, there were his friends, his mates, since Dumbledore knew better than to leave them out of this. Ron and Hermione would know all that was discussed afterwards, whether they were allowed to or not. They had sat by his side, looking a little intimidated by the Viking God who was sat just beside them, which is absolutely understandable; He had his hammer clinging satisfyingly by the side of his hip, and they knew what it was capable of.

Thor, on the other hand, seemed as satisfied as anyone could possibly be with the current situation. It was sort of funny to watch him hold the delicate porcelain cup with his huge hand and sip like a lady, humming in the interval between sips a song that reminded Harry of taverns and old battle myths, and that buzzed in his ears leaving the feeling that an upcoming thunder was hovering just around his head.

By the other side of the Norse God, Nico looked impatient at the door, and then at Thor, making it very clear that he just couldn't stand the humming anymore and that he didn't like being locked in that room just for giving some satisfactions to people who, in his opinion, didn't really need them. Just like Harry, he hadn't touched his tea or his cookies yet and for his expression what he _really _wanted to do was to smash them at someone's face and then leave. That made Harry smile. No matter how heroic the guy was, Harry still couldn't stand looking for too long at his face without wanting to break his nose. It wasn't because he didn't _trust _him – by then, Harry knew Nico was a person of good intentions. In fact, he wasn't sure where all this indisposition had come from; all he knew was that he found the guy so _unbelievably _annoying.

There were the other halfbloods, then: Emil, the tall guy with frank sea-green eyes, the smart-looking stormy-eyed girl and the punk girl with silver camouflage clothes and sparky eyes, who was told to be immortal. Beside them, the kid with hooves and horns and beside _him, _sat Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. In the back of the room there was also a white-blond centaur called Firenze and, making him company, some of the ghosts observed the meeting with great interest.

They were all, Harry realized, drinking and eating as a way of passing the time. Everyone actually seemed to be as nervous about the silence as Harry himself – except for Thor, who as mentioned before seemed to be having a great time -, and he suddenly understood that all of them were expecting for someone else to speak first.

_Well, if no one is going to start this, then I shall do it myself, _he thought, not without mentally sighing.

"So, what are we waiting for?" before Harry could think of what exactly he should say, Nico di Angelo spoke impatiently. "If we're supposed to just sit in silence here, drinking and eating like in a tea party, then I'm leaving. Honestly, I got more to do than this."

_Just so _bloody _annoying_, thought Harry, not without a bit of satisfaction. After all, the silence had been broken.

"Then perhaps you should start telling us how all that happened, from the beginning," said Dumbledore, calmly. "And then the others could complement along the way. After all, as far as I can tell you are the most involved in the events that led to the battle. How's that for you?"

Nico frowned, as if considering. Then he sighed, like an old person would do before telling a long, long story.

:.

_He went to the Underworld a lot these days, if not to help his father to deal with the dead, to find out a thing or two for himself, for he liked enigmas better when he could solve them._

_And then there was that day. It would have been an absolutely normal day – he had gone down to gather some info about Gaea, wondering if he could try finding Hecate along the way so that they could talk and thinking the best way to get his revenge against Persephone, who'd decided last time he'd come to visit that he would look great with bouquets of flowers instead of hands. And everything was going on well, thank you very much, until Alecto came and changed his plans._

"_Your father needs to see you. _Now._" Said the Fury before leaving._

_And so Nico went, for his father's requests were orders and his temper was short. As he arrived, they talked. His father looked worried and worn out, but behind those unexpressive feelings Nico knew there was anger burning._

_Hades told his son one of his keys had been stolen – one of the golden ones, those which can bring the dead back to life and make the living instantly dead. He said he was with an acquaintance, a woman with kind eyes and beautiful lips, and so his guard was taken down. But he also said that whoever took the key took only one out of many, which meant the thief _knew_ that this was a burden that was heavy to carry._

"_A mortal soul," said Hades, "By carrying all of those keys would have his life slowly taken away. Not you, of course, for you are my son. But anyone else…"_

_He sent his son on a quest, then, to find his Lost Key and return it before too much damage had been done. And so Nico went, gathering information about the thief, tracking down souls that might've been brought back to life. At first, the leads were hard to follow and seemed to take him nowhere. It felt useless, and he was sure he would never have anything concrete to work on when things changed._

_He had a dream._

:.

_It was a fuzzy dream, confusing and frustrating. Still, it was important, and Nico knew that. He could feel it._

_There was a castle, a reptilian man and a winter goddess. They weren't together, but they were connected somehow. And then there were kids in black robes holding stupid sticks – and then there was darkness._

_Summing up, with just that Nico was able to find out about Hogwarts and Tom Riddle. The winter goddess was still a mystery though, but she was a mystery that could wait._

"Wait- just wait a minute. How in bloody hell did you find out about us from a _dream? _I mean, this is just _ridiculous_! And how did you find out that the castle was Hogwarts? I'm sure there are plenty of castles out there." Ron stared incredulously at Nico, and then looked around in the room, hoping to find support.

"Let's say that I have my fonts," was the answer, dry and irritated. "Now if you want me to tell you every detail, we will stay here like forever. So…"

_Asking around about Hogwarts and the wizards, he found out, though, that he wasn't allowed to come into the school. There was a rule, an ancient one, which split the mortal world in two pieces, so that the wizards and the demigods would never meet and therefore would never fight – it was more or less the same situation that led to the separation of the Roman and the Greek demigods._

_However, Nico had to find out the connection between the key and the magicians, for the dream made clear that there _was_ a connection. That same night, he shadow travelled to the school, in a reconnaissance trip. It was late and there was no one in the corridors except for Filch and his cat, but as soon as he stepped into the castle he knew that the rule had been broken – he was suddenly filled with the certainty that he would've never been able to enter if another halfblood wasn't already admitted inside the magical barriers._

_And don't ask how he knew it. He just did._

_Nico decided then to investigate. He didn't know if the halfblood – or halfbloods – were an important part of it, but he knew he needed to get in as a student. He also knew he had to look into Ton Riddle, the man who cheated Death the most despicable way possible, so he decided to take the weeks that he had left before classes begun to focus on that._

_Anyway, to cut a long story short, let's just say he did his investigation, and he started frequenting the magic school. And as time passed by, he realized that there wasn't only one lost key, but _three_. And, on top of that, he understood that he would have to choose one of them as a priority to find._

"When the dead gods return  
And all the ancient frontiers burn  
The hero whose father is death  
Shall think of what's lost and choose his path.

Over his head might fall the sky  
- the brave hero in battle must die."

_The prophecy came too late, for by the time the Oracle arrived, the son of death had already chosen which of the keys he had to look for. As a matter of fact, it was even easy. He had one of them with him; so two were left. One could bring back the dead, the other could bring war. And as he investigated Tom Riddle, he found that he had allied himself to the Norse Gods, who had died a long time ago after their Ragnarök._

_After that, Nico just had to add 2+2 – everything he needed to know was right there in front of him. It took him a while, naturally, but when he saw it, everything was as clear as water._

_He had discovered that there was a man who had woken up the Norse Gods from their eternal rest. He had discovered that there was an object, possibly magical, which could bring war. He _assumed _that the so called war was Greeks vs Norse, for the wizards would be already too busy with their own war._

_Wouldn't it be logical if the wizard who'd been bringing the dead back was the one who stole his father's key? That assumed, wouldn't it be obvious that the _other _key would be the one he should be looking for? Each side had one key; eventually, both sides would be looking for the third one – the one to bring war. It would be wiser, then, for him to go after that third one. The other one, the one owned by his father, would come to him naturally in this course of action… or so he hoped._

_But why would the wizard bring the old gods back? And how would have he known about them in the first place?_

_He went back to the Underworld and there he met Gaea herself. And besides her anger against the human beings who used and abused of her, it was nothing compared to the hatred and the fear she felt against the one she once loved. So she told him about her husband's plans to reunite with her, she told him how he'd been orchestrating everything, even though his consciousness was still half asleep and his efforts were still shy compared to what would come next. And then Nico understood._

_Both Gaea and Uranus were born from Chaos. If they reunited, there would only be Chaos again. And wouldn't it be perfect if the Chaos was reborn from its own essence, from the chaos that the clashing of two pantheons would have caused?_

Uranus,_ Nico thought then, _in his sleep, must have felt _brilliant_ for having this idea.

_And even though he wouldn't say it was _brilliant, _Nico had to admit that the idea was not all that stupid. So he found out what the third key was, he looked for it and, when he found it, he decided to trade it for peace._

"And after this," said Nico, "you all know what happened."

:.

The silence that followed was intense. Everyone in the room seemed to think deeply about what was just told – except for Nico, who just wanted to get up and leave now that his side of the story had been told.

"Still, there is something I need to know." Thor's voice was as deep as thunder, as powerful as storm. "You said you had one of the keys, which was neither the hammer nor your father's possession." He hesitated, his electric blue eyes piercing Nico's. "Do you have the Eye?"

Nico stood silent, as if trying to decide whether to trust him or not. Then he sighed and, slowly, raised his hand up to his neck. He grabbed the leather cord Harry had once noticed and picked the pendant that was at its end, hidden into the T-shirt. When he showed it, everyone in the room gasped at the same time.

It was a Greek Eye, of vivid blue and white and black. Even though it was made of stone, there was something about it that made Harry feel uncomfortable, exposed - as if he was nude. The Eye seemed alive, and it looked straight at people's souls, from the dirtiest wishes to the most secret shames.

At the same time, though, there was a strange urge that rose in Harry's chest. He looked to the pendant and he _knew _that he would be able of understanding Voldemort's plans with just that. He just knew it. His mind would open and he would see what was veiled before; he would be wise, he make _good _things. If he just _had it_… No more casualties, no more pain…

At that point, Nico hid it back into the shirt, not without glancing at each of the present with disapproval.

"Yes, I have the Eye of Thea… though I wish I'd never even heard of it." There was a deep sadness in his eyes, and there was also anger. It seemed that, for him, those two could only walk in pairs.

"But it sure is a wondrous gift."

Nico glared at Thor.

"It is not a gift. It is a curse." He looked away obstinately, to make clear he would say no more about the matter.

"Well, at least the Prophecy seems clear to me," the green-eyed guy spoke, trying to divert the attention to another subject. He stopped to think for some moments, trying to remember. Then the blonde girl by his side, who apparently was his girlfriend, lost her patience and spoke herself.

"Dead gods rise, check," she looked in Thor's direction. "Ancient frontiers being trespassed, check. Nico found the three keys, after all, for looking for one specifically. So, check. Then there's the thing of the falling sky, which matches with what Nico said about Uranus. And the last line…"

"…'_the brave hero in battle must die'_," finished Hermione, thoughtfully. "That would be Amanda, I guess. She had to die so that Thor would receive his hammer and the peace would be sealed for once and for all."

"And what about you?" asked Harry, looking towards the group of demigods and satyr. "Why did you end up here?"

"I was around here because of the new monsters that started to appear," the punk girl shrugged, "And I'm a Hunter of Artemis. I mean, if I am hunting monster, I want to at least know what they are. What about you, Annabeth? What were _you guys_ doing here?"

Annabeth looked uncomfortably at Thor before answering.

"We were on a quest to… Hm, well, we were supposed to find out what the Norse were up to and who actually woke them up. I mean, I'm sorry…" she glanced at Thor "… but apparently the two pantheons didn't exactly get along with each other."

The god smiled.

"No, you are right. We didn't. But this is another life and _I_ intend on using it to bring peace. Hopefully, everything will be different, this time. Even though there still are things to settle, undone businesses…"

After that, they chatted a bit longer. No important things were said, though, and Nico felt it was his leave. By the time they got tired and decided that it was time each of them should take their own path, the son of Hades had already arrived at the Underworld and handed his father the key.

Nico never crossed paths with Harry again, nor met any other wizards in his whole life.

Well, he never met any other _living _wizard. But this is all just details.

On the other hand, he met plenty Norse Gods – enough to get fed up with them and wish they had never been brought back to life. Then again, that is a whole different story.

:.

_And that's The End._

_(Perhaps I'll write just another chapter with a prologue, but it will depend on my mood…)_

_Ok, I have to admit I had loads of fun writing this chapter xD _

_I must say that I've always tried not to tell anything in Nico's POV mainly because I like the character and didn't want to risk ruining him with my narrative. But really, he is much nicer to develop than Harry (sorry Harry, but it's the truth)._

_So, I hope you enjoy reading at least as much as I enjoyed writing!_

_Also, REVIEW!_

_:)_


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